In Panem We Trust
by mockingjayfelicis
Summary: Finnick and Annie are reaped to represent District 4 in the third Quarter Quell. With no Mags to volunteer for her, Annie must face her worst fear and enter the arena once more. Finnick is asked to protect the Mockingjay for the sake of the rebellion, but will he sacrifice his true love to free Panem?
1. The Announcement

**AN: It's no secret that I'm pretty rubbish at finding the motivation to keep long stories going, and unfortunately I cut my last multi-chapter fic short because I didn't feel like I could keep it up. But I am DETERMINED to make In Panem We Trust a decent-length multi-chapter fic! I really hope you enjoy it, please review and tell me what you think! I really appreciate all the feedback I receive about my writing. Please note that it's been quite a while since I've read the books so some odd details may not be 100% accurate. Also, if you have any requests/prompts for a oneshot you'd like written, please send me a message :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. All credit goes to Suzanne Collins.**

_Chapter One – Annie_

My mouth stretches slightly into a sad smile as I stroke the edge of the photograph I'm holding with my thumb. It's of Finnick, Mags and I at Mags' 80th birthday party, shortly before she passed away a few weeks ago. We're all wearing colourful paper hats, and Mags stands between Finnick and I and grins at the camera as the two of us plant kisses on both of her cheeks.

Not enough time has passed for me to be able to remember the happy times we shared together. I'm still grieving, and Finnick is, too. Some days are better than others. Today is an okay day. I haven't had a good day since I was reaped to represent District 4 in the 70th Hunger Games five years ago.

Finnick enters the living room carrying two mugs of hot chocolate, mine filled to the brim with mini pink marshmallows, his overflowing with dozens of little white sugar cubes.

"Hey, sweetheart," he says in a semi-cheerful tone. He places the mugs on the coffee table and then sinks down into the couch beside me with a groan of tiredness. Perplexed by my silence, he wraps his arm around my shoulder and leans forward.

"What are you looking at?" he asks.

I don't say anything, but instead, hand the photograph to him. He sighs but then makes an attempt to smile.

"She loved that bracelet you made her, the silver one with all the little seashells dangling from it."

I nod and smile back at him. "It took me ages to find them on the beach. I didn't want any that were cracked or dirty or a yucky colour."

"She never took it off after you gave it to her. Even when she was sleeping. She thought the world of you, you know."

I nod again and bite my lip to suppress the tears threatening to escape my eyes. I don't want to ruin my okay day.

"I miss her," I say in a quiet voice, looking at the floor and wringing my hands out.

"Hey..." Finnick says in a quiet, comforting voice. He cups my cheek with his hand and gently lifts my head up so I have to look at him. "It's alright, Annie. I miss her too. But she's still with us. As long as we remember her she'll never truly be gone."

I nod for the third time. Finnick presses a soft kiss on my forehead. He checks his watch.

"It's almost time."

The reading of the card. This year is the 75th anniversary of The Hunger Games, which also means it's the third Quarter Quell. Quarter Quell. The sound of it alone is enough to make you feel intimidated. Every twenty five years, as a reminder to each new generation of the horrors of the Dark Days, there is a special Games with a sadistic twist to beat down any District residents who may have become cocky or complacent. Quarter Quells receive more attention and coverage than the normal Games. The arena is unique and can be seen as both a weapon and a threat, depending on where you stand in the training score league table. The regular Games are cruel, but the Quells are on another level entirely. I can never be more thankful that I didn't have to participate in one.

Although the reaping isn't due to take place for another three months, the citizens of Panem are required to tune in to a mandatory viewing from the Capitol tonight, in which President Snow will reveal to the nation what horrible twist the tributes will be faced with this time. The cost for not watching is imprisonment, so although it is the last thing either of us want to see, Finnick grabs the remote and turns on the television set. We grasp each other's hand tightly.

The anthem of Panem fills our living room, and we watch as President Snow mounts the stage in front of the Presidential Palace which has been decorated with red banners that hang from roof to ground, each stamped with the golden seal of Panem and bordered with strips of gold silk. Following him, there is a young boy who looks to be in his late teens. He's dressed in a smart white suit and is carrying a plain wooden box.

The anthem ends and President Snow begins to speak. He reminds us all of the great war and all the loss and hurt and suffering that brought about The Hunger Games in the first place, seventy five years ago. He then goes on to tell us what happened in the previous Quarter Quells.

"On the twenty fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes who would represent it."

I gulp as I imagine what it must have been like to be within the tribute age range at the time of the first Quarter Quell, which was essentially a popularity contest. To know that your name was not drawn from the reaping bowl by chance, but that you were being shipped off to the arena to die because your neighbours had people they'd rather save over you.

"On the fiftieth anniversary," the President continues, "as a reminder that two rebels died for each Capitol citizen, every district was required to send twice as many tributes."

Facing forty seven other tributes instead of twenty three, and knowing that each one has to die for you to make it out alive must make you feel like you might as well grab a knife from the Cornucopia and slit your own throat the minute the gong goes off. It would be far less painful and a lot quicker than bleeding or starving or freezing to death.

"And now we honour our third Quarter Quell," says the President. The young boy in white steps forward and slowly opens the lid of the box. Inside, there are tidy, upright rows of yellowing envelopes. It is clear that the tradition of the Quarter Quell will not be coming to a close any time soon. The President removes an envelope clearly marked with the number 75. He breaks the seal and pulls out a small rectangular piece of card. He reads from it.

"On the seventy fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from the existing pool of victors."

Everything is silent. I can't hear the reactions of the audience on TV. Finnick's mouth moves quickly but no sound comes out. Everything is mute.

No. Everything is not mute. I just can't hear over my screams.

My vision topples as I collapse into Finnick's lap. I shake and shriek and cry and kick and thrust. I feel Finnick's arms encircling my struggling body, but instead of relaxing into his hold, I place my hands over my ears and push against both sides of my head. Maybe I can undo what I heard. Maybe I can undo what he said.

I'm slipping away now. I don't know if it's the shock, or if I'm voluntarily retreating inside my head. Everything's becoming fuzzy, blurred around the edges, as if it's not real, as if I'm dreaming. I wish I was dreaming. All I know is that I'm still screeching as Finnick stands up, clutching onto my shuddering frame. He walks a few steps and exits the living room. My head rolls and rests against his strong chest, and then I black out.


	2. The Reaping

**AN: This is a quick update because I'm really excited about this new story. Thanks to all who review! **

_Chapter Two – Finnick_

I breathe in the sharp, salty air and enjoy the cool evening breeze tickling my face as I sit on the warm sand and look out at the glowing sun beginning to set over the ocean. Annie tilts her head and places it against my shoulder. I slip my arm around her waist and place a kiss on top of her head, inhaling the familiar scent of her red hair as I do so.

It's been three months since the reading of the card. Three months since President Snow announced the twist to celebrate the 75th anniversary of The Hunger Games. All of the tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors. And they are to be reaped tomorrow. In less than 24 hours, I'll know whether or not Annie, I, or both of us, will be heading back into the arena to fight for our lives again.

That's a lie. I know for certain that at least one of us will be chosen tomorrow. It will most likely be me. I refuse to believe that that yellowing card Snow read from was written 75 years ago. It's too much of a coincidence. What with the uprisings in the districts, and the talk of rebellion. Ever since Katniss Everdeen defied the Gamemakers last year, he's been desperate for a chance to put her life in danger again. To show her who's boss. And I haven't exactly been helping matters either. Deliberately turning up late for my appointments in the Capitol and sometimes missing them altogether has definitely contributed somewhat to Snow's desire to eliminate the Victors.

I can guarantee that every slip of paper in the males' reaping bowl will have my name printed on it. I'm not sure if the girls' reaping will be fixed, too. Annie hasn't done anything to make Snow angry, apart from becoming romantically involved with me. We know he's not happy about it, so we've been trying to be modest about our relationship in an attempt to prevent anything like this from happening. But maybe that hasn't been enough. I can only hope that Annie's fragile state of mind will have stopped him from having her name printed on all the slips of paper in the females' reaping bowl, but unfortunately, I'm doubtful.

"I wish we could just run away, Finn," says Annie.

I sigh and watch the sun set further and further beneath the horizon. "So do I, beautiful. So do I."

Travel between the districts is forbidden unless it's due to official Capitol business. But even moving to another district wouldn't protect us from the horror of the Games. We were told that Panem was the only country to survive the war. Everything else was demolished, burned, bombed, destroyed. That's what we were taught in school. But I don't believe it.

Miles of open sea stretch out in front of us. But you can only get so far on a boat until eventually you reach the forcefield. It rings around the perimeter of Panem, both above water and below it, enclosing us in. Trapping us. With no means to escape and explore what's out there, if there is anything at all. We're confined to Panem, confined to a life of watching children die for entertainment.

Annie sits up straight again and turns towards me. She holds both of my hands in hers.

"I'm sorry for being so miserable these past few weeks. It's unfair to expect you to be my rock when I know you must be going through hell, too. It's unfair for me to break down in front of you all the time when you're probably just as scared as me."

"Annie, you know I'll always be there for you. Regardless of our circumstances. I love you."

"I love you too," she smiles.

"And no matter what happens tomorrow..." I pause. I've run out of words. I don't know what to say. I can't lie to Annie. I can't tell her everything's going to be okay, because I know it won't. Even in the best case scenario, only one of us will be returning home from the reaping tomorrow. "And no matter what happens tomorrow... we'll find a way to get through it."

xXxXx

It's time. It's almost two o'clock. The citizens of District 4 fill the town square, but for once, they're not petrified that their children will be taken away from them. They're probably relieved. I can't say I blame them. Everyone wears their usual reaping clothes, though. The girls in knee-length dresses that cover their shoulders. The boys in smart shirts and black trousers.

The Justice Building has been decorated with the same roof-to-ground scarlet and gold banners that the Presidential Palace was covered in the night President Snow gave the announcement about the Quarter Quell. The camera crews are all set up and ready to go, the lighting positioned and perfected.

I stand on the right side of the stage that has been set up in front of the Justice Building, alongside the four other male victors from District 4. Out of the five of us, I am the youngest, at 24 years old. In front of us, stands a large glass bowl with only five slips of folded and sealed paper resting on the bottom. Across the stage, on the left side, stands Annie, in between the two other female victors from District 4. I can't help thinking that Mags had a lucky escape, passing peacefully in her sleep, or else she would be joining them. In front of them, adjacent to the male victors' glass bowl, stands one identical to it, with only three slips of folded and sealed paper resting on the bottom. I catch Annie's eye and give her a reassuring smile. She returns it, although her nerves are clear. There is an eerie atmosphere as the low hum of whispers and the feeling of dread and anticipation fill the square.

The noise stops at once as the front entrance of the Justice Building opens and Tressa Selkirk, the Capitol escort for District 4, steps out onto the stage. She looks around forty, although you get the impression she's trying too hard to look much younger. Her straight, indigo hair has been pulled back into a sleek ponytail, giving her an instant face lift. She's wearing a headband with overpowering fake flowers of all different shades and colours. A couple are almost the size of her face. She has thick orange eyelashes that remind me of spiders' legs and curl up so high they actually touch her magenta eyebrows. Her unnaturally white teeth shine through her dark silver lipstick, and she's applied so much blusher to her cheeks that she looks permanently flushed. Her fitted teal suede jacket is so low-cut that you can see the swirly pink and gold tattoos that litter her breasts. She wears a matching teal velvet skirt, and tomato-coloured patent skyscraper heels with straps that entwine all the way up her lower legs. She looks exactly like the women I serve in the Capitol, and I think she looks revolting. Year after year I have to put up with her on never-ending train journeys to the Capitol. Endure her piercing Capitol accent as she babbles on about things that don't matter, that shouldn't matter while 24 kids are fighting to the death right in front of her. And now she's here to deliver my fate. Again.

"Welcome, everybody!" she sings when she reaches her microphone, opening her arms out to the crowd. She receives no response. "Can you believe it? It's been 75 years since The Hunger Games began. This is a very special reaping today, as it will determine the male and female tributes who will have the honour of representing District 4 in the 75th anniversary and third Quarter Quell of The Hunger Games." She smiles sickeningly, totally unaffected by the square's lack of enthusiasm. "Now, there's been a bit of a change in the reaping process, under President Snow's orders."

This catches my attention. Change? What change?

"This year, it's _gentlemen_ first."

My chest tightens as Tressa dances over to the the male reaping bowl in her stupid heels. That proves it. It's definitely going to be me. Why else would they change the protocol? They'd have no reason to if they didn't already know that _the _Finnick Odair, Sex God of Panem was going to be chosen.

I feel the back of my neck and the palms of my hands getting warmer as Tressa dips her hand into the bowl and pulls out one of the folded slips. She unseals it as she returns to her microphone.

"The male tribute from District 4... Finnick Odair!"

I swallow hard and step forward. I raise my arm to the crowd and put on my best fake smile, but somehow I can't bring myself to lift my head to show it off. Unsurprisingly, no one volunteers for me. That's it, then. I'm going back in.

"And now for the ladies..."

Tressa saunters off to the girls' bowl. Annie and I catch eye contact again. She has a panicked expression on her face, but I smile at her and mouth, 'It's okay' in an attempt to calm her down. It doesn't work.

"The female tribute from District 4..."

I close my eyes. Please. Please, not her. Anyone but her. Anyone but my sweet, kind, beautiful Annie. She deserves to live. Please, let her live...

"Annie Cresta!"

I immediately turn to face Annie. Her hands are over her mouth and she's already crying hysterically. I notice her legs wobble and I dash across the stage to catch her before she falls. The other female victors vacate the stage to give us some room. I envelope Annie in my arms and hold her steady as she sobs into the crook of my neck.

Tressa continues in her bubbly voice as if none of this has happened. "The tributes from District 4 – Finnick Odair, and Annie Cresta!" she extends an arm out to Annie and I and I shoot her an unforgiving look. She applauds and grins to the crowd, but slowly stops after a few seconds once she realises no one is joining in. After that, the only sound that can be heard for miles is Annie's cries.


	3. Back To The Capitol

**AN: Thank you for the reviews! Please keep them coming, I love hearing what you think.**

_Chapter Three – Annie_

The square clears, and Finnick and I are ushered into the Justice Building by Peacekeepers. I'm still crying and gasping for air. He has his arm wrapped tightly around my shoulder and we're walking so close together, he's almost carrying me.

We walk down a narrow hallway, the same narrow hallway that I walked down five years ago, and the same narrow hallway that Finnick walked down ten years ago when he was reaped to take part in the 65th Games. A Peacekeeper opens the door to a room at the end of the hallway and gestures for us to enter. Normally, this is the time for the chosen tributes to spend an hour saying goodbye to their families before they're shepherded off to the train station, but since neither Finnick nor I have any family, we're allowed to spend the next hour together.

My parents died in a boating accident when I was very young, too young to remember them. I was raised by careworkers in the District 4 community home. When Finnick turned 16 and Snow informed him about the duties he'd be required to carry out in the Capitol as a young, attractive victor, he initially refused. Said he shouldn't have to put up with this after what they put him through during the Games. So he left the Capitol, but when he returned home to District 4, he found the dead bodies of his parents and older brother hanging in the middle of the square, on show for everyone to see. A message. A warning. You don't argue with the Capitol.

Finnick is all I have now, and I am all he has. I haven't set one foot inside my allotted house in the Victors' Village since I came home from my Games. It was too big, too scary, too much of a reminder of what I had to go through to win. Finnick insisted I moved in with him, and I couldn't have been more grateful. We were happy, living there together with Mags next door. We were like a little family, connected by the loss of our real families and our experiences in the Games. We didn't have to explain ourselves to each other. We understood each other. We felt accepted, loved, cared for. For years, it was the three of us against the world. But now Mags is gone. And Finnick and I have been reaped. We're going back into the arena, but we won't be coming out together. At least one of us will be killed in there. And whichever one of us makes it out alive, if one of us even do, will have to face life back here in District 4, alone, and with the memories of two Games to haunt us forever.

We enter the room, that has two pink love seats, each under a display of plush cushions. There's a small mahogany table in between them, on which a vase of flowers has been placed. The room is airy, with yellow walls and lots of sunlight streaming in through the large windows with draping pink curtains and windowsills so big, you could sit on them. I've been in this room before. The last time I was reaped. The head careworker and a few of my friends from the community home came to wish me luck, while on the opposite side of the building, Luca, my district partner, exchanged emotional farewells with his blood relatives.

"You have one hour," a Peacekeeper tells us, before the closing the door.

Finnick and I immediately embrace.

"What are we going to do, Finn?" I cry into his chest.

Finnick makes comforting shushing noises as he rubs my back. "It's alright, Annie. Come here, come and sit down."

He guides me over to one of the love seats. We have to place a few of the over-stuffed cushions on the cream carpeted floor so we can sit comfortably. We grasp each other's hands tightly.

"Annie, honey, I need you to listen to me, okay?" says Finnick in a gentle tone.

I nod, and sniff in an attempt to stop crying.

"I know it's hard, sweetheart, but we need to try our best to stay calm. That's the only way we're going to be able to think. I can't tell you what's going to happen, because right now I don't know. But I can tell you that we will figure something out. We will, Annie, you and me, together. If we stick together, we can do anything. If we stick together, we can find a way through this."

I nod quickly, taking a deep breath. Finnick's right. We need cool heads if we're ever going to create some sort of plan. I have to pull myself together. For my sake, and for Finnick's. There's no use losing myself in a panic attack. As long as I have Finnick, I'll be okay. As long as we're together, they can't hurt us.

"That's my girl," Finnick smiles, noticing my efforts to calm down. "One thing's for sure, my love – Team Odesta is not going down without a fight."

I laugh through the remainder of my tears. Finnick cups my stained cheek with his hand.

"There's that beautiful smile," he says slowly and quietly.

We smile at each other. I take a last deep breath, and then lean in for a kiss. The taste of his soft lips brings me comfort like nothing else can. And with our personal lives about to be broadcast live on TV once more, I don't want to waste a single minute we have in private together.

XxXxX

The swarm of people overwhelms me as the back doors of the Justice Building open and Tressa walks out, tall, proud and confident, followed by Finnick and I, hand in hand, offering each other reassuring squeezes and smiles. Plenty of District 4 citizens have arrived to see us on our way. Peacekeepers clear a path for us from the door to the taxi waiting to take us to the train station. I hear shouts of, "Good luck!" and "We're all behind you!" but to be honest, they mean nothing. No one can change our situation, and no amount of well wishes from nameless, faceless people is going to change President Snow's mind about the Quell.

It's a short ride to the train station. Tressa flicks through her large filofax, ticking things off on lists and constantly checks her rhinestone watch. Finnick and I look out the window, our fingers still entwined, and still giving each other reassuring squeezes every now and again.

There are more people and Peacekeepers waiting at the station. We're rushed onto the Capitol train waiting on the platform, and as soon as the metallic door closes behind us, the wheels begin to turn. We're all thrown backwards, and Tressa almost falls right over, but Finnick catches her just in time.

"My knight in shining armour!" she purrs, stroking his chest with a grin stretching from ear to ear.

Finnick smiles awkwardly and removes her hand.

"Fine, be like that then..."

Tressa wiggles her hips from side to side as she leads us into the dining carriage, where we see that Harvey Edenthaw and Lux Kinnimonth, who are acting as our mentors this year, are already sitting at the table waiting for us.

Lux stands up and gives me a tight hug. It's hard to believe she was standing beside me on that stage just over an hour ago, waiting to see if she would play tribute or mentor in the Quarter Quell. It must be difficult for her, to send two of her friends who she's known for years back into the arena. But no matter how difficult it is, she still drew the long straw.

Her medium-length blonde hair has been styled into a French plait. Her arms are toned, her body stern, as the result of months preparing for the Quell in case her name was chosen. Only in her late twenties, she would have stood a fighting chance. She won the 62nd Games, when she was seventeen, by gathering an unusually large pack of allies and then stabbing them all in their sleep.

Harvey greets Finnick with a handshake. He's slightly older than Lux, perhaps around thirty five, with dark brown hair. He's not in the best shape, and you can tell that the news of the Quell has taken its toll on him by his fuzzy facial hair and the dark circles under his eyes. He won the the 55th Games when he was just fifteen. His strategy was to go it alone, and hide from the other tributes. His mentality was that if they couldn't find him, they couldn't kill him, and he was right.

Lux then hugs Finnick, and Harvey hugs me, and we all sit down at the table, them on one side, me and Finnick on the other, and Tressa on the end.

"We're so sorry that this happened to you," Lux begins. "If there's anything you need from us, please, just let us know."

Harvey nods. "We're not going to treat you like children, because we know you're not. You've both done this before, and you know all of the procedures leading up to the Games. We don't want to insult you by acting like you're teenagers again. You know your strengths and your weaknesses, you don't need us to help you find them."

"Officially we will be your mentors, but we'd prefer to just be supportive friends," says Lux. "We're not going to tell you what to do or where to go or what to say. You're old enough to make your own choices."

"When you're in the arena we'll work our fingers to the bone to get you sponsors, but until then, we'd love to spend the next few days with the two of you as listening ears. A helping hand."

Lux nods in agreement.

"Thank you," says Finnick. "We appreciate it."

"Yeah," I add. "That's really thoughtful of you."

It isn't long before dinner is served – thin vegetable soup followed by succulent gammon with roast potatoes, peas, corn on the cob and Yorkshire pudding, and hot chocolate fudge cake drizzled in chocolate sauce accompanied with a scoop of vanilla and a scoop of strawberry ice cream. A typical Capitol meal with all the trimmings. The food looks and smells delicious but my stomach feels knotted from the fear of what is to come in the next few days, preventing me from enjoying it. I can only manage half of my bowl of soup, a few meagre bites of gammon and a fraction of the peas on my plate.

The conversation is different to when I was last being brought to the Capitol to die. Last time, Finnick was my mentor, and Mags was Luca's mentor. They spent the majority of the meal talking about training plans and finding our talents and devising what the best strategies to help us win the Games would be. Tressa squealed non-stop about how we must keep on schedule and how everything had to be on time. Tressa hasn't changed, but neither Lux nor Harvey mention a word about the Quell. They talk about the weather, what they did last weekend, how Harvey's son is getting on at school. It's nice. For a few minutes I almost forget where we're heading. The first time there is any mention of the Games is when Finnick gently pushes me to eat some more and reminds me that we could probably do with gaining a bit of weight before we enter the arena. The conversation stops completely after that. I try hard to finish the meat but I can't touch the sides or dessert.

"Good girl," Finnick rubs my back and kisses my cheek.

That night, Finnick and I lie awake in his sleeping compartment. I have one of my own, but the beds are big enough for two people and I don't think either of us would want to sleep alone tonight. So we snuggle up under the blankets, with a black blind covering the window and soft lamplight illuminating the compartment. It's raining outside. I can hear the pitter-patter of raindrops against the glass. The sound is somewhat hypnotic and is almost soothing.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you. You know that, right?" says Finnick quietly, stroking my hair.

I shift my position so that I'm resting my chin on his chest and looking up at him.

"I'm not going to let you die for me." I say firmly.

"You won't have a choice," he replies in the same soft manner.

"Finn!"

"I can't do it, Annie," he shakes his head. "I can't live without you."

"Finnick, you'll be fine. I know you will."

He shakes his head again and his eyes begin to water.

"I'd rather die in that arena than live without you." He bites his lip but it's too late – the tears have already started running down his face.

"Oh, Finn..." I lift myself up and wrap my arms tightly around him. He returns the hug and buries his face in my neck. "It's okay, Finn. Let it out. It's me. It's Annie."

With my permission granted, he allows himself to break down. He holds me close as I feel his warm tears on my shoulder. Pained wails escape from his throat, not forming any coherent words. I run my hand through his bronze hair as his body begins to tremble. We lie down, him still wrapped in my arms. I kiss his head, and make quiet shushing noises until he cries himself to sleep.


	4. The Opening Ceremony

**AN: Special thanks to two readers in particular, X The mad girl back home X and Odestalovebaby, I really appreciate your consistent feedback :)**

_Chapter Four – Finnick_

We arrive in the Capitol the next morning. We eat breakfast on the train, before Annie and I are dragged away by Tressa to the Remake Centre where our prep teams are waiting to groom, wax, pluck and polish us before tonight's Opening Ceremony. I give Annie a quick kiss and tell her I love her before we have to separate. I won't see her again until this evening. It doesn't seem like that long, but we're due to be thrown back into the arena in five days' time, and every second I spend apart from her is another second of our limited time together down the drain.

My prep team are delighted to see me again. I wish I could say the feeling was mutual. These are the people who gloss me over until I look like the kind of tribute a Capitol citizen would be likely to sponsor. Who erase all of my physical imperfections before handing me over to the Gamemakers for slaughter. It's sick what they do to the kids year after year. Who are they to tell a child that they're not beautiful or handsome and that no one will pay attention to them unless they look a certain way?

Berenice, with her intricately stencilled aquamarine skin and sparkly black false nails that are so long and pointy they remind me of an animal's claws, Delphi, with blonde hair on one side of her head and brown hair on the other, and Titus, with half of his face tattooed in maroon swirls and shocking pink lipstick, bathe me, lather me, scrub me, shampoo me, shower me and oil me before ripping every last fibre of hair from my face and neck. They tidy up my eyebrows, file and buff my nails, apply all sorts of gel and spray and product to my bronze hair until it's styled just perfectly, and even brush on some subtle make-up. I feel like hell, but I can't help thinking of Annie just a few corridors away, going through worse treatment than I am. They're always harder on the girls. I hope she's okay. She doesn't need any of this to make her look pretty. She's already the most beautiful woman in the world to me.

The whole process takes about five hours. Finally, my stylist, Valeria, arrives and dismisses my prep team.

"Good luck, Finnick. You'll be fabulous, I know you will!" Berenice cries, wrapping her arms around my neck and crumpling my paper robe. Her hug is so strong that she actually pushes me back a little.

"That's enough, Berenice, it's my turn," says Delphi, pulling her off me and planting a kiss on both of my cheeks. She holds both of my hands and looks directly into my eyes. She lowers her voice as she says, "You go out there and win this thing, Finnick. I know you can do it."

"Thanks," I say plainly, desperate for them to leave.

She's pushed aside by Titus who holds my face in his hands. I try to escape but he's squashing my cheeks so hard that my skin looks puffy and I'm unable to speak.

"It's been a pleasure, Finnick, really, it has. All the best!" he grins.

He finally releases my face as Valeria demands that they get out at once. I'm too busy rubbing my sore cheeks that I don't notice she's locked the door until I hear the loud 'click'. I look up.

"I thought they'd never leave," she says in what is obviously her attempt at a seductive voice. She slowly walks over to me in her leopard-print kitten heels, fluttering her red and green striped eyelashes. She places her hand on my chest, like Tressa did yesterday, and smiles cheekily up at me.

"You know, we've still got a little while before we have to get you dressed..." she purrs. "How about we have some fun together to pass the time?"

I remove her hand. "I have a girlfriend," I tell her firmly.

Valeria rolls her eyes and turns around. She wiggles over to the wardrobe on the other side of the room in a way that seems common in all Capitol women. Maybe it's the outrageous heels they all wear.

"Of course you do," she sighs. "What's her name again? Anna? Annabelle?"

"Annie."

"Yeah, that's it," she says lazily, opening the door to the wardrobe. "But having a girlfriend's never stopped you before, right?"

She turns back to face me and winks. I decide not to retaliate. She doesn't know anything about me, or Annie, or what Snow makes me do. She's not worth it.

"Wanna see what I've got planned for you tonight?"

She takes out a tightly-woven fishing net from the wardrobe and shows it to me.

"What's that?" I ask, a puzzled expression on my face.

"Your costume, silly!" she teases as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Take your robe off."

I do as she says as she approaches me, net in hand. I can't quite figure out how this is going to work. Then she drapes the net around my waist and knots it at the front, right over my groin.

"You've got to be kidding me."

She looks up. "What?"

"This is my costume?"

"Yeah. What's wrong with it?"

"Everything! Everything's wrong with it!" I exclaim.

But Valeria's not listening. She's fetching me a pair of black flip-flops from the wardrobe. She drops them at my feet and I put them on.

I shake my head in disbelief. "Why... why exactly am I dressed like this?"

"Because it would be a shame to hide a body like yours under a thousand layers of clothes. You got it, so flaunt it!" she giggles.

I shake my head again but decide there's no use in arguing. It's impossible to compromise with these people, or make them see any sort of reason at all.

Valeria finishes off my look by draping a thick necklace made out of dark blue and green discs over my neck. I reach for the pendant that Annie made me that lies on top of the pile of clothes I wore when I entered the Remake Centre this morning. It's a piece of golden fishing net, woven and moulded into the shape of an upside down triangle, attached to a loop of thin blue rope to go over my neck. She made it for me after she learned about the true nature of my trips to the Capitol. She made it so that I'd always have a piece of her with me, even when we were apart. It's my most prized possession, and I've never gone a day without wearing it. I slip it over my neck.

"Ah," Valeria raises her finger to point out a problem. "Take that off. I didn't agree on that."

"This stays on," I declare. "I don't care what hideous outfit you dress me up in, but this," I stroke the upside down net triangle. "This stays on."

XxXxX

I endure an elevator ride with Valeria down to the ground floor of the Remake Centre, which houses the massive gathering place for the tributes and their chariots while they wait for the Opening Ceremony to begin.

I scour the crowd of tributes, horses and chariots, trying to spot Annie.

"Finnick!"

I turn to the direction the call came from. And there, standing beside the District 4 chariot, stands Annie. Her hair has been plaited into a long fishtail braid, which is clearly a reference to the fishing industry of District 4. Little silver gems have been stuck to her skin in a line beside both of her eyes, and she has small orange earrings that resemble starfish. She's wearing a floaty, coral pink strapless dress that is so long it covers her feet, and she's wearing bracelets made of white seashells on both wrists and a matching necklace. I'm pleasantly surprised. The last time Annie took part in the Games, she was put in skin-tight shimmery trousers that flared out at the back, and she wore absolutely nothing on her top half apart from two large seashells covering her breasts. Her stylist said she was supposed to look like a mermaid, but Annie hated it, and I could see how uncomfortable it made her. She seems happier with this year's costume, though. She even has a little smile on her face.

"You look... amazing!" I say, taking her hands and studying her modest outfit more closely. "New stylist?"

"Yeah, his name is Leonis," Annie beams. "He's really nice."

"I'm glad." I smile and lean in for a kiss. When we break away from each other, Annie turns her attention to my knotted net and raises her eyebrows.

"Oh, yeah..." I begin, looking down at the knot that barely covers me. "Don't ask. Valeria's idea."

Annie giggles shyly. "Never mind. You won't have to wear it for long. You kept your pendant on!"

She strokes the triangle around my neck just as I did earlier on.

"Of course I did, baby," I lower my voice and smile at her. We kiss again, and the announcement for the tributes to mount their chariots is what interrupts us.

I climb onto the District 4 chariot which is being pulled by two identical brown horses, and then help Annie climb up, too. The chariots are lined up in order in front of the large metal doors.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Opening Ceremony of the 75th anniversary and third Quarter Quell of The Hunger Games!" Claudius Templesmith's booming voice can be heard from inside the Remake Centre. The applause and cheers and whistles from the crowd become louder and louder as the heavy metal doors open and the District 1 chariot is released. An extravagent version of the anthem of Panem rings out from all directions.

A few seconds later, the District 2 chariot is released, and we're second in line behind the District 3 chariot. Annie and I hold hands. I look at her.

"Ready?"

"Ready," she nods.

It's our turn to roll out into the evening sunshine. The audience lining either side of the street blow us kisses, some even throw flowers at us. They call our names, jump up and down, bend right over the barriers to get a better look at this year's tributes, deciding who will be a worthy sponsor. We offer a smile here, a wave there, but nothing too over the top.

Our faces appear on large screens placed on both sides of the street, which triggers a fresh load of cheers from the crowd. Annie and I look at each other and she squeezes my hand. I squeeze hers back. It's become our non-verbal method of comfort. That little squeeze says don't worry. It says everything's going to work out fine. It says I love you.

We curve into the loop of the city circle and our horses come to a halt. We wait for the chariots behind us to position themselves, and then President Snow appears on his balcony. The anthem ends, the crowd quietens, and he welcomes us to the Quell. I don't bother listening to his speech. I know it will be full of lies. Patronising lies, nothing more.

The chariots return back down the street in order, until we reach the Training Centre, next door to the Remake Centre, where we will live until it is time to enter the arena. I help Annie jump down from the chariot, and we walk hand in hand to find Tressa, Harvey and Lux who will take us up to the fourth floor. But we only manage a couple of steps before we find our path blocked by Plutarch Heavensbee and Haymitch Abernathy.

"Finnick, Annie," says Plutarch. "Would you mind coming with us, please?"


	5. The Meeting

**AN: This chapter is mostly dialogue and so not very exciting, but I hope you still enjoy it anyway. Please leave a review, feedback is always welcome.**

_Chapter Five – Annie_

"Why? Have... have we done something wrong?" I ask nervously.

"No, no, Annie, you're not in trouble," says Haymitch with a kind smile. "Plutarch and I would just like to talk to you and Finnick and a few others alone."

"Why?" asks Finnick.

"Everything will be explained shortly. This way, please," says Plutarch.

Finnick wraps his arm protectively around my shoulder, unsure of what's going on. We follow Plutarch and Haymitch, who also pick up Johanna and Blight from District 7, and Seeder and Chaff from District 11, who look as equally confused as we do. I wonder if there's anything that we all have in common, and why Plutarch and Haymitch want to talk to us, but I can't think of anything. This isn't usually a routine part of the Games. I wasn't called to any sort of meeting after my first Opening Ceremony, and neither was Finnick. The familiar nervous knot twists in my stomach as Plutarch leads us up a flight of stairs into the main lobby of the Training Centre and along a corridor I've never been down or noticed before.

We stop before a set of double doors. Plutarch presses his hand onto a panel on the wall. The panel scans his hand, and then makes a beeping noise as the doors click open. We then turn left, descend another flight of stairs, and make our way along another corridor.

"Where exactly are we going?" Johanna enquires in her sarcastic tone.

"You'll find out soon enough," says Haymitch gruffly. "And keep your voice down."

We eventually reach a metal door at the end of the corridor. It's panel-activated, like the double doors upstairs. Accepting Plutarch's hand print, the panel makes a beeping noise and the metal door slides open.

Inside is a large windowless conference room, where Beetee and Wiress from District 3, the tributes from District 6 (I don't know their names but I've heard people refer to them as "the morphlings"), Cecelia and Woof from District 8, and Peeta Mellark from District 12 sit at a white circular table, all still wearing their costumes from the Opening Ceremony. They look both surprised and relieved to see us, except from the morphlings, who remain pretty much expressionless. I notice that everyone has a district partner except for Peeta. Where is Katniss?

"Please, sit down," says Plutarch, gesturing to the empty chairs around the table.

Finnick and I choose two empty seats beside Peeta. By the time Plutarch and Haymitch have sat down, there isn't one leftover chair. _This was planned_, I think to myself. _This is not a coincidence._

"I'm sorry to bring you down here while you're still in your attire," Plutarch begins. "But this couldn't wait. Not even until the morning."

Everyone exchanges glances, some worried, some curious. Finnick and I give each other's hand a squeeze under the table.

"I suppose I should start by introducing myself."

"We know how you are," Johanna sighs. "You're the Head Gamemaker of The Hunger Games."

"Actually, Johanna, that's where you're mistaken." Haymitch cuts in.

Johanna screws up her face in bewilderment, and so do several others.

"I am Head Gamemaker, Miss Mason, yes, you're right," says Plutarch. "But I'm also the leader of the rebellion."

There are a few moments of silence before Woof says, "I don't get it... how can you be both?"

"I'm sure you've all heard about the uprisings in District 8. And I bet you're wondering who instigated them in the first place. The answer is me. I did."

Plutarch and Haymitch look at each other before he continues.

"You've been told since you were children that there are twelve districts in Panem. That the thirteenth was obliterated during the Dark Days and is now nothing but a smouldering pile of ash and debris. I'm here to tell you that this is not true. District 13 is alive and thriving, and neither President Snow nor anyone in the Capitol has any idea about it."

Gasps escape from several people's mouths. Finnick's brow is furrowed. Wiress' eyes have dilated so much they look like they're about to pop out of her head. Even the morphlings are sitting up straight and paying attention now.

I try to process the information. District 13 still exists?

"How is that possible?" Beetee announces what I'm thinking.

"The people of District 13 live in an underground community, under the leadership of President Alma Coin," Plutarch explains. "There aren't many of them. It's true that most of them were killed in the war. But their population is growing. Slowly, but surely."

"Wait, wait..." Finnick intervenes, holding his hand up. "What about the footage that they show at the reapings every year? The footage of 13 still burning and smoking? You don't mean to say that people actually live under that?"

"That footage is about as old as the Dark Days themselves. It just gets repeated every year, only it's edited slightly first so it doesn't look identical to the footage shown the year before," says Plutarch. "District 13 is mostly meadows and woodland. The rubble from the bombings was cleared decades ago."

There is silence again. Some people's mouths hang open in shock. Other people lean forward, listening attentively.

"I know this is a lot to take in," Plutarch admits. "I'm trying to go as slowly as I can..."

"No, you're doing great," Haymitch assures him. "They need to hear this. Tell them about your work with Coin."

"I work in partnership with President Coin," Plutarch tells us. "Our plan is to overthrow the Capitol. Remove the district boundaries. Allow the people of Panem to speak freely without having to worry about what the consequences will be. And most importantly – put an end to The Hunger Games once and for all. But to do that, we need vital information from inside the Capitol. From President Snow himself. That's where I come in. I volunteered to be Head Gamemaker so that Snow would trust me. But actually, I'm feeding everything he tells me back to District 13 on a daily basis."

"So you're a spy?" says Wiress in a dreamy yet admirable tone.

"Yes, Wiress, that's exactly what I am." Plutarch nods and smiles at her.

"Hang on..." Peeta chimes in. "That's all very well, but... why are you only telling us this? Why aren't the other tributes here?"

Haymitch holds up his hand. "We're getting there," he nods. He turns his attention back to Plutarch. "Carry on."

"I want to talk about Katniss Everdeen. You'll notice that she's not here tonight, even though Peeta, her district partner, is," says Plutarch. "The President wants Katniss dead. Ever since her stunt with the Nightlock berries in the arena last year, Snow has had something of a personal vendetta against Katniss. She was brave enough to stand up to him, and he didn't like that one bit. It was her stunt with the berries that triggered the whole idea of rebellion in the first place. She became a symbol of hope to the people in the districts, proof that the Capitol can be outsmarted if you're brave enough to take a chance. Snow could feel the control he had over the nation slipping from his grasp little by little, day after day, and he felt like he had to do something to stop it. Something that would destroy Katniss Everdeen, destroy the districts' role model, and destroy any thought of them ever being strong enough to overthrow him."

"The Quell." The quiet words have escaped my lips before I even realise what's happened. Everyone turns to look at me.

"Yes, Annie," Plutarch confirms. "The uprisings in the districts couldn't have coincided at a more perfect time for Snow. He decided that the tributes were to be reaped from the existing pool of victors. Katniss, being the only female victor ever to originate from District 12, would have no choice but to go back into the arena, and face tributes that were older, stronger, more experienced than she was, and hopefully, die."

"So that card that Snow read from... it wasn't really written 75 years ago?" says Cecelia.

Plutarch shakes his head.

"That still doesn't explain why you're only telling a select few of us." Blight points out.

"We're only telling those we can trust," says Haymitch. "Districts 1 and 2 are practically on the Capitol's side, so the Careers were out of the question."

"What about 5, 9 and 10?" says Chaff.

"I don't know the tributes very well personally. I'm sure they're great people, but we can't afford anything that's been said in this room leaking out." Haymitch tells him.

"Somehow I still don't feel like we've got to the point," Johanna sighs again.

I can't help agreeing with her. The news about District 13 and the Quell being fixed is very interesting, but what does it mean? What can any of us do about it?

"Here's the point," says Plutarch. "Katniss Everdeen is a beacon of hope for the rebellion. Without her, this whole thing collapses. After 75 years, there's finally a light at the end of the tunnel. But if Katniss dies in that arena, the light goes out."

"We're planning for this to be the last ever Hunger Games," says Haymitch. "We're also not planning for these Games to go on until only one tribute remains."

"What do you mean? There's only one winner!" Seeder exclaims.

"We plan to break into the arena a few days after the gong goes off. With a hovercraft, from District 13. Rescue all the tributes who are still living, and then take them back to 13 until we can figure out a way to get them home safely." Haymitch says.

More gasps.

"But here's the thing," Plutarch swiftly carries on. "We need Katniss Everdeen to be on that hovercraft. We need her for the rebellion to be a success. That's why you're here."

"So you're asking us to die for Katniss?" says a straight-faced Johanna.

"No. We're asking you to protect Katniss to the best of your ability until the hovercraft arrives. And if that means dying for her, then so be it."

You could cut the tension in the room with a knife. Nobody speaks.

"I'm in." Peeta declares.

Haymitch nods proudly at him.

Blight lets out a long breath. Woof rests his forehead in his hands. Seeder looks at the ground.

"It's a big decision, Haymitch. I need time to think about it." admits Chaff.

"Unfortunately, time is the one thing we don't have. It's Monday night. You go into the arena on Saturday morning."

"You mean we have to say yes or no right now?" pipes up the male morphling.

"Not right now," Haymitch answers. "Get your answers to me by Friday night. No hard feelings if you decide against it. We know it's a very big ask."

"That's an understatement, Haymitch." says Finnick.

There are a few mutters of agreement.

"No one outside of this room is to know what was discussed in here tonight. Especially Katniss Everdeen. Does everyone understand?" asks Plutarch.

The thirteen of us nod.

"Get some rest. You'll need it for training tomorrow."

We rise from our chairs and exit through the metal sliding door. Finnick slides his arm around me again.

"What do you think?" I ask, looking up at him.

"I think... we have a lot to talk about."


	6. A Big Decision

**AN: Thanks again for the reviews. Enjoy!**

_Chapter Six – Finnick_

It's hard to keep quiet over dinner about everything we've just been told. District 13 having a President who plans to declare war on the Capitol. Plutarch acting as a double agent. The mission to break into the arena and end The Hunger Games forever. But no one who wasn't in that meeting is supposed to know, so Annie and I bite our tongues and exchange pleasant chit-chat with Lux and Harvey and not so pleasant chit-chat with Tressa at the table, until we head off to bed together and finally have some privacy to discuss it all.

"Okay," says Annie, pacing up and down the room while I lie underneath the huge duvet cover and watch her. "Plutarch said that they were going to use a hovercraft from District 13 to break into the arena, and rescue all the remaining tributes."

"Yeah, I know. I heard him."

Annie stops pacing and looks at me.

"Don't you get what this means, Finn?" She climbs onto the bed and sits cross-legged, and holds my hand in hers. "We could go home. Together. Both of us! We could go back to District 4 and everything would be as it was."

"Yeah, if one of us doesn't die while protecting Katniss first." I say in a resentful tone.

"Does that mean you don't want to do it?"

"Do you?"

Annie sighs. She lowers her head and starts picking at the duvet sheet. "Think of all those parents who'll never have to send their kids off to the reaping. No more innocent lives will be wasted for the sake of a television show. They'll be able to grow up, fall in love, start families of their own, do everything that they want to do, without the horror of the Games looming over them. If Katniss is the only one who can make that happen, then... maybe. Maybe I do want to do it."

There is a moment of tense silence before I say, "Why are you such a good person?"

Annie smiles and gets under the covers beside me.

"You're a good person, too," she says gently. She rests her elbow on her pillow and starts softly stroking my hair while I look at the ceiling. "I know you don't think you are. But you're wrong. You're the bravest, kindest, most selfless man I've ever met in my life. And I know that's why you'll make the right decision with me."

I turn my head to look at her. I bite my lip.

"I'm scared." I whisper.

"Of dying?"

"No. I don't care what happens to me in there. I'm scared of losing you," I sit up before I carry on. "Let's say you and Katniss were drowning..."

"But I wouldn't drown cause I'm an awesome swimmer," Annie grins and winks at me. I can't help but smile.

"Okay... let's say you and Katniss were being attacked by mutts. Am I supposed to drag her out while you get torn to shreds? Save a girl I don't even know over the woman I want to marry?"

"Finn..." Annie looks taken aback. I take both of her hands and look into her eyes.

"I mean it, Annie," I say quietly, trying hard not to let my voice shake. "I want to be with you forever. You're the only person I've ever loved, and the only person who's ever loved me. I don't know what I'd do without you. All I know is that I wouldn't be able to carry on. So, I'll do it. I'll risk my life to protect Katniss, put please don't ask me to put you in danger."

"I didn't know you felt that way," says Annie quietly, blushing.

"Well you do now," I smile. "I want you to be my wife, Annie. I've always wanted you to be my wife. But I couldn't bring myself to ask you because I thought it would scare you away, and then there would I be? But now I've left it too late... I've left it too late..."

"Hey," Annie cups my cheek. "Don't say that! You didn't know that this was going to happen... Finn, I want to be with you for the rest of my life as well."

"Really?" I can feel the hot tears prickling my eyes. "You're not just saying that?"

"Of course I'm not! I love you so so much, you have no idea how much. Finnick, I'd be lost without you. No, actually, I'd probably be dead without you. Think of all the times you've pulled me out of my flashbacks – I've had them in the bath, on the beach, while I've been cooking. I would have died if you hadn't been there to bring me back. You're the only one who can bring me back. You looked after me when I had no one else. You taught me what it was to not only be loved, but to love myself. And I can never thank you enough for that."

I smile through my tears as a surge of relief washes over me.

"I'm so glad to hear you say that." I whisper.

Our lips find each other and lock into a sweet, tender kiss. We lie down together and encircle each other in our arms. The feeling of Annie's petite body so close to me is comforting. Her scent is familiar, and makes me feel safe. I position myself on top of her and our lips separate. I leave a kiss trail from her mouth down to her neck as her breathing gets heavier. I roll my tongue over the sensitive spot on her neck that only I know about and she releases a soft moan. I imagine Annie becoming my wife as I make delicate, gentle love to her.

XxXxX

Annie's sleep is fitful. I know that images from her last Games and expectations of this new arena plague her dreams. I lie awake and hold her fragile frame in my arms, stroking her beautiful red hair and whispering to her that it's okay and that I'm here as she mumbles my name and flinches in her unconscious state. I refuse to let myself slip away until she's settled.

We eat breakfast in the morning holding hands. Tressa, Lux and Harvey's words surround us but don't quite reach us. It's as if we're both sealed in a protective bubble and nothing that we don't want to hear can affect us. We squeeze each other's hands – our silent way of saying that we love each other.

We change into our training clothes – me into a pair of black tracksuit bottoms, her into a pair of black yoga pants, both of us into a grey and black vest top and black rubber shoes. Annie ties her hair up into a ponytail and we both collect a bottle of water. Lux and Harvey wish us well before Tressa shoos us off to the elevator.

When we're finally alone again, descending to the ground floor of the Training Centre to endure six hours of instruction, we look at each other and laugh.

"Team Odesta?" I extend my fist. Annie pounds it with hers.

"Team Odesta."


	7. Training

**AN: Please leave a review, I'd love to hear what you think.**

_Chapter Seven – Annie_

Unlike the last time I arrived for the first day of training, the tributes seem very laid back. Whether it's the fact that they're confident they will do well or have just given up, I don't know.

It's 10.25. Training begins in five minutes, but still, not everyone has turned up. The Careers are here, huddled in a group chatting quietly and smiling, clearly eager to get started. Beetee and Wiress exchange a few hushed words. I wonder if they're discussing Plutarch's proposition, or if they've already made up their minds. Maybe I can find out what they're planning to do before Finnick and I deliver our answer to Haymitch on Friday.

The seven or so others are fairly quiet. A few don't even have their district partners with them. They sit picking their nails, rubbing their tired eyes or resting their chins in their hands, looking extremely bored and defeated.

The elevator doors open and out walk Katniss and Peeta. Peeta gives a small smile to those whose attention has turned to them, but Katniss has a wary expression on her face, as though she knows that something isn't quite right. Has someone told her about the secret meeting?

I don't have time to think about it any further because Atala, the short but stern-looking woman who is in charge of our training approaches us and informs us that it's time to begin. Someone enquires about the absent tributes but Atala says that if they want to miss out on valuable combat practise and survival lessons that might just save their life, that's their loss, not ours.

We spend the first half of the morning completing the compulsory exercises. The Careers are so comfortable with them, they look like they could do them in their sleep. I remind myself that they probably could. They don't pose too much of a challenge for the fitter tributes, and even though I don't have a lot of strength, my youth and flexibility give me an advantage. However, the older tributes who aren't in the best shape anymore struggle, quickly losing their breath and making clumsy mistakes as they position their bodies incorrectly.

Afterwards, Atala reminds us of the different stations that we are free to visit or not to visit if we so choose. There is an archery station, a knife-throwing station, and a sword-fighting station, plus plenty of extra dummies and targets to practise spear-throwing or trident-fighting. There are also stations that don't teach fighting techniques but useful skills such as how to start a fire, how to treat wounds with the most basic of supplies and how to tell the difference between edible plants and poisonous ones.

Finnick and I decide to spend the rest of the morning together, and agree that after lunch we'll do our own thing. We visit the plant station first, as we think that the plants they talk about might give us a clue as to what the environmental conditions in the arena will be like. There are a lot of underwater plants that I recognise from back home. This is a good sign – if they're teaching us about these sort of plants, it must mean that there is some form of water in the arena, which immediately gives Finnick and I a head start, being from the fishing district of Panem. Children in District 4 learn to swim before they learn to walk.

We then move on to a station that teaches us how to make traps. There's hardly any woodland in District 4, so learning how to make a snare to catch a rabbit is fascinating. It takes us a couple of tries to get it right, and then Kestrel, the kind instructor, demonstrates how a rabbit would become trapped in it, making me jump.

We visit the knife-throwing station next. This is what I did for the Gamemakers during my individual evaluation when I was here five years ago. It was far from perfect, and I received a training score of seven out of twelve. I was disappointed with it, but Finnick, who was my mentor at the time, said it was brilliant, because it wasn't low enough for the sponsors to overlook me but it wasn't high enough for the other tributes to see me as a threat and want to kill me off quickly. My aim is a little off at first, but Saffra, the firm but fair instructor, adjusts my grip on the knife and tells me that the throw has to come from my core, not my arm. It takes a while to get the hang of it, but with every throw, the blade gets closer and closer to the centre of the target, until eventually, I hit the bullseye. Saffra smiles and praises my efforts. Finnick finds flicking his wrist difficult, as he's so used to fighting with his trident which doesn't require any wrist movement at all. Saffra notices that he's throwing the knives with too much force, as though they weigh the same as his trident does, and reminds him that the knives are much smaller and lighter than his trident and he'll be more successful if he doesn't put so much energy into the release. He takes her advice on board, and almost immediately, his throws become so much more precise and accurate.

After a while, we break for lunch, and the tributes head to the cafeteria where we're served a mountain of spaghetti cooked to perfection and the freshest bolognese sauce I've ever tasted. Last time I was here, all of the districts ate separately, too shy or scared to converse with the other tributes, apart from the Career pack, who sat together and laughed and joked as though they had been best friends for years. This time, the scene is a lot more social. Tables are pulled together to create more space for tributes who want to sit with people from other districts, and the buzz of enthusiastic chatter fills the room. Finnick and I find space in between Enobaria and Blight and tuck in to our meal.

Katniss and Peeta sit at the end of the table, Peeta discussing something related to training with Gloss while Katniss remains silent and twirls her leftover spaghetti around and around on her fork. My mind returns to this morning, remembering her cold and suspicious look. If she has any idea that half the tributes are planning on risking their lives to save hers, surely she would have said something. I know from watching her during last year's Games that she's very independent and likes to rely on herself and no one else. She'd have a fit if she knew how much debt she'd eventually owe to the other tributes who helped get her out of the arena alive. I just hope she remains in the dark long enough for Plutarch's mission to be a success.

As we agreed, Finnick and I split up after lunch and explore the different stations by ourselves. I pass the camouflage station, where the morphlings are busy painting each other to resemble the trunks of trees, and approach the first-aid station, where Wiress and I spend a good amount of time learning all about natural ointments that can be used to heal burns and stings. The instructor, Laurel, shows us how the right leaves can be used as substitute bandages, and we practise sewing in case we ever need to stitch up a gash.

Then I move onto a station where I begin weaving a fishing net. I know I can already do this, but I time myself and work at a fast pace to see if the quality of the net would be as good if I was forced to rush it in a hunger panic. I finish within three minutes, and the weaving is a little sloppier than usual, but the net is still strong. I sense someone approaching the station and look up to find Katniss standing over me.

"Hey," she says.

"Hey," I smile. This is rather unexpected.

"What are you doing?"

"Making a fishing net."

"Of course – District 4." Katniss smiles. "Um... if you show me how to make one of those, I could teach you how to shoot?"

I'm slightly taken aback but glad that Katniss is reaching out to me. And the shooting skills that she could teach me would definitely come in handy.

"Sure." I nod.

I grab some more material and hand it over to Katniss. We sit on the floor and I show her the pattern in which to cross the strands over and how to make sure the net is tight enough. As we work, we begin to have a conversation, and I make a very conscious effort to avoid mentioning anything related to the meeting.

"Have you and Finnick thought about allies yet?" Katniss asks me.

"Not really," I tell her. "It would probably we wise to get some, because I'm sure these Games are going to be very different to our last ones. But no, we've not had any discussions about allies yet. What about you and Peeta?"

"Our mentor, Haymitch, wants us to get some, but it's difficult because we're so new to this whole thing. Everyone else seems to know each other so well. We're pretty much the outsiders."

"I don't think that'll really matter. Once people are reminded of how talented you are with your bow and arrows, I bet they'll be queuing up to form an alliance with you."

Katniss smiles. "Thanks." Then she sighs. "Are you nervous?"

"About going back into the arena?"

She nods. I look at the ground.

"Yeah. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't. When President Snow made the announcement about the Quell, it felt like I was in a living nightmare."

"Tell me about it," mutters Katniss.

"I'm sorry you have to go through this again. Especially so soon after..."

"Don't be sorry," she says. "We're all in the same boat."

I nod and we continue to work on the net in silence for a bit.

"I don't remember much about your Games," Katniss tells me. "You won the 71st?"

"70th," I correct her. "My arena was very rocky. Lots of cliffs and caves. A river flooded and burst its dam. That's the only reason I won – because I was the best swimmer out of the tributes who were left."

"Oh yeah, I do remember that... was that the year the little kid got his head cut off? By the boy from One, with an axe?"

Everything's turning fuzzy again. Like I'm trapped in some sort of dream.

"Annie?" says Katniss.

My chest tightens and my breathing quickens. I hyperventilate as images and memories of my Games come flooding back to me, obscuring my vision of the Training Centre. I see trees, lots and lots of trees, and I see Luca's tiny headless body slumped on the grass in front of me, and I'm too scared to run, too scared to shout for help, too scared to even scream, so I just lie there, curled up in a ball, rocking back and forth, hugging my knees and shaking while tears flow from my eyes, making whimpering noises like some injured animal...

"Annie!" I hear Finnick's voice shout. He drops his sword from the sword-fighting station on the other side of the room and sprints over towards me. Katniss stands up to let him near me.

"I didn't do anything, I swear, she... she just..."

"Don't worry, it's not your fault. She has flashbacks now and again," Finnick tells her.

He crouches down beside me and starts rubbing my back in an attempt to help me breathe normally again. He speaks to me in a quiet, calming voice.

"It's alright, Annie, it's just a flashback. You're not there anymore, baby, you're here, you're here with me. Look at me."

My wide eyes find his and he smiles. I try to smile back but I'm still in too much shock from being revisited by headless Luca to calm down. Atala appears along with several others who gather at the scene. Those who don't move from their stations continue to stare.

"Take her up to the roof for some air," says Atala. "If she needs to take the rest of the day off, it's okay."

"Thank you," says Finnick. He turns to me. "Can you stand up, sweetheart?"

I shake my head. My legs feel like jelly, and I know that if I was to put any weight on them, I'd come crashing down to the floor. Finnick lifts me up effortlessly. The other tributes have started murmuring and I know they're talking about me. About what an embarrassment the poor little mad girl from District 4 is. I start crying into Finnick's shirt as he carries me out of training.


	8. Last Day Together

**AN: A rather short chapter, but I hope you like it. Thanks again for reviewing, lots of love!**

_Chapter Eight – Finnick_

"I'm sorry you had to miss out on half a day's worth of training," says Annie as we cuddle up in bed that night.

"It's not your fault, sweetheart," I assure her with a warm smile. "As long as you're okay, that's all that matters to me."

"I love you," says Annie quietly, resting her head on my chest with her sleepy eyes closed.

"I love you too, beautiful," I whisper back, kissing her head and stroking her long hair before I close my own eyes and fall into a deep nightmare-filled sleep.

We spend the remaining two days of training by each other's side. We move from station to station together, alternating between combat practise and survival lessons. We start to mingle with Katniss and Peeta. Katniss gives us all archery lessons, and Peeta, who is somewhat of an expert at painting, teaches us how to camouflage ourselves so we can hide from other tributes in the wilderness. We build a fire together, and stand in a line to see who can throw a spear the furthest. Katniss is understandably a little shaky – it was a spear that killed her friend Rue in the arena last year – and so hers flies way off course, but she quickly redeems herself when she manages to knock Peeta to the ground at the wrestling station. Annie and I show them how to make fish hooks, and they share their extended knowledge of plant life with us, since they're from District 12 which is mostly forest. By the end of it all, I'm happy with what Annie and I have achieved - I receive a ten in my individual evaluation and she receives an eight. But I still get the feeling that Katniss doesn't trust us.

It's Friday now. The day before we enter the arena. Tonight, we have our interviews live on air with Caesar Flickerman to discuss our game-plans and why we think we deserve to win. It's our last chance to really get the sponsors' attention, to tell them why they should spend their money trying to keep us alive rather than some other poor, helpless tribute. We're supposed to spend the day having one-on-one coaching with our mentors, to rehearse what we're going to say and how we're going to act before our stylists whisk us away and glam us up until we're ready to be shoved on stage in front of an entire theatre full of the richest, most affluent citizens of the Capitol.

"Any plans for tonight?" Lux asks us at breakfast.

"Wing it," I say simply, scooping up the remainder of my cereal from my bowl.

"I thought so. What about you, Annie?"

"Pretty much the same," she says.

Lux nods.

"Leave them be, they know what they're doing," says Harvey, reaching for more salt to sprinkle over his fry-up. "They don't need us anymore. Let them spend the day together."

So that's what we do. We ask Tressa to send for two masseuses, who come to our room and set up massage beds beside each other. Annie and I hold hands as all the knots in our back and shoulders from training are ironed out with warm scented oils and a good rub-down. We then receive leg and foot massages, followed by head massages. Afterwards, we're so relaxed that we just feel like curling up and napping, but that would waste our precious limited private time left together, so instead, we start running water into the circular jacuzzi-style bath tub and add so many bubbles that by the time we enter it, there's more foam than water.

I think about all the Capitol films I've seen during my work here, where couples sit in a bubble bath, each drinking a glass of champagne with a strawberry in it, the woman's hair tied up elegantly as they exchange dirty talk in slow, seductive voices. That image couldn't be any more different to the bath that Annie and I share.

We laugh and squeal as we splash each other, getting water all over the floor. Annie gives me a bubble beard and leans back to admire her work.

"Hot," she smirks.

I splash her for her cheek and she lets out a delightful giggle that brings a smile to my face. I grab her slim body and pull her towards me. I start tickling her, but I'm careful to hold her above the water so she doesn't go under and choke.

"Don't you talk to me like that, Annie Cresta!" I jokingly scold her with my bubble beard still clinging to my face.

Annie laughs so hard that eventually, she stops making any noise.

"Finn... st-stop!" she howls, desperately trying to escape my tickle attack.

After a few more seconds, I let her go and she returns to her original position, still giggling.

"Your turn," I smile, smothering the bottom half of her face with bubbles.

She shakes her head and makes a noise like she's blowing a raspberry – I must have got some bubbles in her mouth. The funny sound sets me off into a fresh round of laughter. She splashes me again, sending a good amount of water overboard. There's a knock at the bathroom door.

"What's going on in there? You better not be making a mess!" Tressa's distressed voice just makes us laugh even more.

When we get out of the bath, we quickly gobble lunch down so we can go back to our room and be alone together. We play fight. We make a den with our duvet, pillows and cushions. We watch a trashy Capitol talk show and re-enact the situation in our fake Capitol accents (a woman's husband was leaving her for her brother). We sit at opposite ends of the room and throw each other gummy candy and try to catch it in our mouths. We make love. We snuggle. We clasp hands.

"I meant what I said on Monday night," I say in a serious tone. Annie looks up at me. "When we go in there tomorrow, I'll risk my life for Katniss. But I can't put her safety before yours. I love you too much to just let you go."


	9. Interviews

**AN: Thank you for the lovely reviews. Please keep them coming!**

_Chapter Nine – Annie_

"Annie! Over here."

Finnick waves me over to where he's standing. He's wearing a loose-fitting white shirt that shows most of his chest, baggy silk trousers that are a sea green colour, a brown belt with a gold buckle, the chunky necklace made from blue and green discs he wore at The Opening Ceremony, and the pendant that I made for him.

Most of the tributes are milling around backstage, waiting for the interviews with Caesar Flickerman to begin. Some are still getting dressed with their stylists. Leonis has just gone to take his seat in the audience. For the second time, I'm happy with the outfit he's chosen for me – a light blue sundress and flat white shoes. My hair has been curled and pinned into a half-up half-down style, and I'm wearing a sparkly silver necklace and bracelet.

I smile and cross the large backstage area to Finnick, and give him a kiss.

"You look gorgeous," he tells me.

"Thanks!"

He takes my hand and lifts it up, and I giggle as I twirl for him.

"Look, there's Haymitch," Finnick points over to where Haymitch stands talking to the District 6 mentors. "We should go and tell him what we've decided."

We walk hand in hand, past tributes and mentors and escorts, until we reach him.

"Uh, Haymitch..." says Finnick. The three of them stop chatting and look at us. "Sorry to interrupt... could we talk to you for a second?"

"Sure," says Haymitch. "I'll be right back," he tells the District 6 mentors.

We find a quiet corner to have our private conversation. We speak in hushed tones.

"We, uh... we've made our decision about what you said," mutters Finnick.

"And?"

Finnick looks at me. I nod.

"We'll do it. Annie and I are in."

Haymitch smiles and shakes Finnick's hand.

"You won't regret this," he says.

He kisses my cheeks.

"Thank you. I mean that."

Finnick and I smile and turn to leave.

"Wait..." says Haymitch.

He adjusts his standing position so that there's absolutely no chance of anyone seeing what he's about to do. He takes off a golden flame-patterned bangle from his wrist and holds it out to Finnick.

"Take this."

"What is it?"

"Don't wear it now. Put it on before you go into the arena tomorrow."

"Why?"

"Show it to Katniss. She's dead set against her and Peeta having any allies, but she'll trust you if she sees you wearing this. Please."

Finnick nods and slips the bangle into his pocket.

XxXxX

I notice that there is something different about this year's interviews. Instead of just sitting back and answering Caesar's questions, the tributes make a point of announcing their real feelings about the Quell – a true act of defiance.

Cashmere starts crying, although her tears are obviously fake, and says she doesn't know how the Capitol will cope the loss of so many victors. Gloss, pretending to be concerned, places an arm around her shoulder and tells the audience that no one could love him and his sister more than the people in the Capitol, and that him and Cashmere regard them as family. When Caesar (whose hair is lavender this year) tells Beetee that he doesn't know who they'll miss more – him or his brain – he bites back with a comment questioning the legality of the Quell, wondering if it's been fully examined by experts of late. Johanna starts swearing during her interview, expressing her anger at being forced to risk her life once again for the entertainment of those in the Capitol. Seeder calmly talks about how in District 11, everyone assumes that President Snow is all-powerful, so why doesn't he have the ability to change the Quell? Chaff follows with a blunt remark about how Snow must not care very much at all about the citizens of Panem if he can't be bothered doing anything about the Quell. By the time the first 22 tributes have been interviewed and are assembled on a large podium on stage, the audience is hysterical – weeping, collapsing, even calling for the Quell to be cancelled.

Caesar introduces Katniss, and she emerges wearing the most breathtaking white wedding dress I've ever seen in my life – made of silk with a large skirt, tight waist and low neckline, all covered in shiny pink pearls. This triggers more wailing and crying from the audience – they've just realised that the romance between the star-crossed lovers from District 12 will be over in a matter of days.

Caesar goes on to say how very disappointed everyone is about her and Peeta's wedding having to be called off. He asks her if this is the gown she would have worn on her wedding day.

"Yes, President Snow thought everyone would want to see it," says Katniss, a forced smile plastered on her face.

"Well President Snow, as usual, was right. Was he not, folks?!" Caesar roars to the crowd and chuckles.

Then he asks Katniss to twirl. She slowly begins to spin, and the bottom ten inches of her dress erupt into flames. The audience gasp and cheer at the Girl on Fire's signature fashion statement. I expect Katniss to stop twirling, for the flames to extinguish and for the dress to return to its pristine white condition, but none of this happens. Instead, Katniss keeps twirling, faster and faster, round and round, over and over again. As she twirls, the flames steadily move up the dress, until her waist is on fire, her chest is on fire, her whole body is on fire.

She suddenly stops twirling and the flames go out – but she's no longer wearing the wedding gown. She's wearing a simple, long dress with thin straps that is very dark blue – almost black, actually. It looks as though it's made of velvet – no, wait – it's _feathers. _Her pearl earrings have been replaced with sapphire ones, and her sparkly headpiece has disappeared. There is another round of gasps from the audience, only this time, they're not from amazement, but from shock. Then Katniss lifts her arms out to the side, which now look like the black wings of a bird. Finnick and I look at each other, our mouths hanging open. Caesar is dumbstruck.

"It... it's a bird, it's... it's..."

"It's a mockingjay," states Katniss proudly. The audience give her a standing ovation.

Caesar tells Katniss' stylist, Cinna, to take a bow, although you can see that his professionalism is cracking under all the pressure the victors are putting on him tonight. Katniss mounts the podium beside everyone who's already been interviewed and we wait for Peeta to be introduced. He comes out on stage wearing a smart suit and polished black shoes – clearly his wedding outfit, too.

"Now, Peeta," says Caesar. "The wedding? The marriage? Never to be..."

Peeta takes a deep breath.

"Well, actually, we got married."

There is a cry of disbelief from almost everyone in the theatre. Caesar's eyes are as wide as saucers. Did they really get married? Or is it just a ruse to add to the efforts of trying to stop the Games? It's impossible to tell at this point.

"A secret wedding? Go on, do tell," says Caesar.

"We want our love to be eternal," Peeta nods. "You know, Katniss and I, we've been luckier than most. And I wouldn't have any regrets at all, if it weren't... if it weren't..."

"If it weren't for what, Peeta? For what?"

"If it weren't for the baby."

My eyes snap straight over to Katniss to see her reaction. She's trying not to look puzzled, but the confusion in her face is there. She's not pregnant. They're not married. This is all to try and let us go home. To let us live.

There are bellows of, "She can't do it!" and "Don't make her!" and even "Stop the Games!" from the Capitol citizens in the audience. Some cover their mouth with their hands, a few fan themselves with their glitzy programme of the night, others lean on the person next to them for physical support so they don't drop.

Caesar whispers something to Peeta and he takes his place on the podium beside Katniss. Caesar tries and fails to calm the inconsolable crowd. Then I notice something. Peeta holds Katniss' hand, who then holds Chaff's arm, since his hand had to be amputated after his Games because it was so badly injured and couldn't be repaired. Chaff holds Seeder's hand, who's standing beside him, who then holds the District 10 male tribute's hand, who's standing beside her.

Finnick offers me his hand, and I take it. On my other side, stands Beetee. We smile and link hands, too. This continues until all of the tributes are connected. The Careers are hesitant, especially Brutus and Enobaria, but even they eventually succumb. Caesar is startled at this movement that has never before been seen or heard of in the entire history of The Hunger Games. He imitates slicing his throat with this hand to the camera crew, a severely panicked expression on his face. The music stops. The lights go out. The audience screams. But the victors stay put, grasping each others' hands in the darkness.


	10. Back in the Arena

**AN: Thank you so much for the reviews! I love reading them. **

_Chapter Ten – Finnick_

This is it. The day that I've been dreading for months and fearing for years has arrived. Today we go back into the arena for the second, and probably last, time.

I wake before Annie. I watch her as she sleeps on my chest, feeling relieved whenever her body rises and falls as she takes a breath. I can already picture myself doing this in the arena. Staying up all hours of the night just to make sure that she's still breathing. That she hasn't been taken from me.

Valeria and Leonis arrive for breakfast. They sit with Tressa, Harvey, Lux, Annie and I and we all eat in silence. I push more and more food on Annie, determined for her to start the day off on a full stomach. She's going to need it. We both are. We consume toast, cereal, blueberry muffins, buttery croissants, yoghurt and a range of fruit until we feel so stuffed we're certain we couldn't fit another morsel in. It seems extreme, but it's necessary. This is our last guaranteed meal. From now on, if we want any more food, we're going to have to find it in the arena.

We say our goodbyes to Harvey and Lux, before Valeria and Leonis take us up to the roof where we'll board the hovercraft that will transport us to the arena. I go first. An electric current freezes me in place on the ladder as it rises. When I enter the hovercraft, a doctor is waiting to inject my tracker into my left forearm. I hiss at the sharp pain.

Valeria boards the hovercraft next, followed by Annie, who is also injected with a tracker, followed by Leonis. We take our seats amongst the other tributes and their stylists. Annie and I grip hands firmly as the hovercraft takes off. I notice Annie's eyes watering. I squeeze her hand and she looks at me. I meet her gaze with a smile.

"It's going to be alright, baby," I say quietly. "Nothing's going to happen to you so long as I'm alive."

She forces a brave smile and nods as I kiss the back of her hand.

It's a short flight to the Launch Centre in the arena, maybe around twenty minutes. Annie and I must separate now – tributes enter the arena alone.

"I'll see you real soon," I promise her, pulling her into a hug that lasts longer than it was supposed to. Despite my words, I can't bring myself to release her easily.

Valeria is overeager to help me into my tribute outfit. This year, it's a fitted black and silver jumpsuit with full-length arms and legs, made of very sheer material, and a pair of black nylon shoes with rubber soles.

"I'll do it," I tell her firmly.

I take the clothes and put them on in the bathroom that adjoins to my room in the Launch Centre. I tuck the pendant that Annie made me into the suit. I don't want it snapping or getting caught on anything. Then I retrieve Haymitch's gold flame-patterned bangle from my trouser pocket and put it on, like he told me to. I study myself in the mirror. The suit will offer little protection in the event of a blizzard, or rain, or even a cold wind, which tells me that the arena will most likely be hot. A desert, maybe?

"Thirty seconds to launch." Claudius Templesmith's voice sounds.

I exit the bathroom back to where Valeria is standing beside the metal plate on the floor. That's how I'll get into the arena. When I stand on it, a hollow glass tube will lower from the ceiling and encase me. Then the plate will begin to rise, lifting me up out of the Launch Centre and into the arena.

"I'd say good luck but you probably don't need it, what with you having so many adoring sponsors," says Valeria smugly.

"None of them matter to me," I tell her, taking my place on the metal plate. "All I care about is Annie, and getting her out of there alive."

"Twenty seconds to launch."

Valeria guffaws. "Whatever, Finnick."

No more words are exchanged between us. Claudius announces that there are ten seconds to launch, and I brace myself, getting ready for the plate to rise, mentally preparing myself for what lies ahead.

The plate slowly begins to lift me up, and soon, Valeria is out of sight. Harsh rays of sunlight obscure my vision from above. A cool breeze catches my hair. I rise higher and higher, until eventually, there's no more glass and I'm standing in the arena.

A sloshing sound from below makes me look down. I find water lapping up over my shoes. Water. Water! I smile. This means that Annie and I are automatically the front runners.

I'm standing in the sea. No, it's not the sea – it's a large circular pool of water, surrounded by a golden beach and then dense jungle. _It's salt water_, I think to myself. Damn it. Undrinkable.

"Let the 75th Hunger Games begin," comes Claudius Templesmith's faceless voice. "May the odds be ever in your favour. 60, 59, 58, 57..."

Less than a minute to go. In the middle of the pool of water, about forty metres away from me, there is a rocky island, on which stands the large metal horn, the Cornucopia, housing a large loot of glittering weapons. I see that there are rocky spokes radiating from all the way around the island. How many are there? Ten? Twelve? On my right, there is a spoke. On my left, stands the District 9 female on her plate, and on her left, there is another spoke. So there's twelve. Twelve spokes creating twelve wedges, with two tributes in each wedge.

"43, 42, 41, 40..."

"Annie..." I breathe, desperately scanning the ring of tributes to find her. I hope the Cornucopia isn't blocking my view of her. It's hard to tell one tribute from another since we're all dressed identically. Where is she? Where is she? Where is she?

"35, 34, 33, 32..."

There. Far off to my right, standing on a plate two wedges away. It was her red hair that made me spot her. It's been fastened into a bun, and like everyone else, she's looking around, trying to get her bearings before the gong goes off.

"21, 20, 19, 18..."

I keep my eyes on her until her head turns to me and our gazes connect. I smile at her but I don't know if she'll be able to see it from so far away. I need to figure out what I'm going to do. I need to get to the Cornucopia and secure a trident, if there is one, and a few knives for Annie. But how do I get there? It looks like I'll have to swim to my right until I reach the spoke, climb onto it, and then run along the spoke to get to the island.

Ten seconds. God, I hope Annie will be okay. Seven seconds. We just need to get off the island, away from the bloodbath, and then we can figure out our next move. Five seconds. Four. Three. Two. One.

The loud gong sounds, and I dive off my plate to the right and into the warm, salty water that's a bright turquoise colour. I try to clear my head of all worries about Annie while I'm swimming, just concentrating on getting to the spoke quickly and safely.

I reach it, pull myself up, and start running along the rocky surface towards the Cornucopia. I look over in Annie's direction and see she had the same idea as me – she too is running along her spoke towards the island. Most of the other tributes are still in the water, a lot of them probably trying to teach themselves how to swim at this very moment, and a few haven't even left their plates yet.

I reach the island just before Annie does. I jump over the rocks to where her spoke meets the island and hold my hand out to her. She reaches out and grabs it, and together, we swiftly make our way around to the mouth of the Cornucopia.

We're the first ones here. In front of us lies an array of weapons, everything from bows and arrows to maces and swords and axes, the smaller, less useful weapons scattered at the front, and the more valuable ones displayed at the back. I'm surprised and panicked – normally there are food packages of some sort, and water bottles and backpacks full of supplies amongst the weapons. But there isn't this year. This year it's all fighting equipment.

Annie scoops up three knives, varying in size, and slips them into her belt. _Come on, there must be a trident_, I think to myself. _There has to be a trident_. Yes! My eyes fall on a large, sturdy black trident further inside the horn. I lunge forward and grasp it, claiming it as mine.

Annie gasps. I turn to my left and find Katniss aiming an arrow at my face. I immediately raise my left wrist, making Haymitch's bracelet clearly visible.

"Good thing we're allies, right?" I say.

"Where did you get that?" Katniss demands.

"Where do you think?"

Before she has the chance to answer I notice that the District 5 male has managed to find his way onto the island. He's standing behind Katniss and about to stab her in the back with a large knife.

"Duck," I command calmly.

Surprisingly, Katniss obeys me, and sinks to the ground. I throw my trident at the District 5 tribute, spiking him square in the chest, killing him instantly. The first canon of the Quell booms around the arena.

I cross over to him and pull my trident out of his chest.

"Annie, you come with me."

Annie skips over the rocks and Katniss rises, turning towards us.

"You take this side. Me and Annie will go and find Peeta."

Katniss nods and begins firing arrows at those who approach the island.

Annie and I make our way around the Cornucopia, searching the plates for Peeta. I don't know how Katniss learned to swim, but I'm pretty sure Peeta won't be able to.

"There!" Annie shouts, pointing across the water to where Peeta is neck-height in the water, clutching onto his plate, while the District 10 male delivers brutal punches to his face.

"Go tell Katniss," I say, before diving into the water and swimming as fast as I can over to Peeta. It's difficult with the trident in my hand, but I can't afford to let it go.

When I get there, I pull the District 10 tribute off Peeta and he smacks me in the jaw. Peeta lets go of his plate to try and help me but sinks beneath the surface straight away since he can't swim. I dive under the water to pull him back up, but the District 10 tribute plunges in after me, and it isn't long before the three of us are having a full-blown fight underwater, me and Peeta trying to protect each other while we both get shoved and kicked. I finally manage to lift my trident and pierce it through the District 10 tribute's throat. I hear a faint canon blast from above the water. The tribute's dead body floats to the surface.

I hold Peeta close to me as we re-emerge above water. Annie and Katniss are standing on the island and they both let out cries of relief. I help Peeta over to the nearest spoke and haul him up. The girls dash out onto the same spoke, and then the four of us run as far away from the island as fast as we possibly can.


	11. The Forcefield

**AN: I'm really pleased with the reception of this story so far! I love reading all your reviews, and it makes me so happy that you enjoy reading my writing. Thanks again!**

_Chapter Eleven – Annie_

We run in single-file, Peeta at the front, Katniss behind him, me behind her and Finnick bringing up the rear. We jump off the rocky spoke onto the hard, damp sand, and within moments we've reached the soft, dry sand that's much harder to cross. Beyond that is the jungle, a thick, impenetrable mass of tall, thin trees with leaves bigger than our heads, grasses that completely hide the lower half of our bodies, and gaudy flowers of all different shapes and colours.

We enter it, having to duck down to avoid the maze of vines up above. We run for what I'd say was a solid forty minutes, in an attempt to put as much distance between us and the bloodbath on the island as possible. There's no real path to follow, so we keep our knees high as we make our way through the deep greenery. The further into the jungle we venture, the darker it becomes – the giant trees with their huge leaves block out most of the sunlight. You'd expect the shade to be cool and refreshing, but I'm getting hotter and hotter. I can feel the sheer material of my suit clinging to my body, and my face is damp with sweat. It doesn't help that we seem to be running on an incline, which makes my legs burn all the more fiercely. I can feel a stitch developing in my side, and my breathing becomes ragged, but I refuse to stop running or ask for a break. I will not hold the others back. I will not be the weak link on this team.

We run for another minute or two before Finnick pants, "Okay, hold up." None of us have any problems with resting. Katniss and I sink to our knees. Peeta holds onto a tree for support. Finnick puts his hands behind his head to try and open up his lungs but soon joins Katniss and I on the ground.

We're all struggling to breathe normally, and the four of us are sweating heavily. The heat is unbearable. My fringe has become almost wet with the humidity, and Katniss is able to slick back loose strands of her hair using just her hand. Sweat is now dripping from Peeta and Finnick's faces.

"God, it's hot," Peeta puffs. "We've got to find fresh water."

He's right. We can't have been in the arena for any longer than an hour, but already my throat feels dry and tight from dehydration. I jump as a canon blasts.

"I guess we're not holding hands anymore," smirks Finnick.

"You think that's funny?" says Katniss with a straight face.

Finnick points his finger to the sky.

"Every time that canon goes off, it's music to my ears. I don't care about any of them."

"Good to hear."

She pulls out a long, curved knife from her sheaf of arrows.

"Katniss..." I say quietly, instantly grabbing onto Finnick's arm.

"You want to face the Career pack alone?" asks Finnick, who can keep his calm exterior much easier than I can. "What would Haymitch say?"

"Haymitch isn't here." Katniss retorts.

There are a tense few seconds of silence between the four of us.

"Let's keep moving," says Peeta.

Katniss hands the knife over to Peeta who takes it and leads the way further into the jungle. He uses its long, curved blade to cut through draping plants that block our route. We're too worn out to run, so instead, we walk, or rather, climb, since we're still on a steep hill.

I don't know exactly how long we climb for since none of us are wearing a watch, but if I had to guess, I'd say it was almost two hours. Suddenly, Katniss stops in her tracks, preventing Finnick and I from moving forward. Peeta continues to slice through the mesh of vines, until...

"PEETA, NO!"

Before I or Peeta realise what's happening, there is a loud explosion, a great spark of electricity, and Peeta is thrown backwards. He lands flat on his back not far away from us, still and stiff and lifeless. I gasp and bring my hands up to my mouth, expecting to hear the all too familiar boom of the canon any second now.

"PEETA!" Katniss screams.

She bursts into tears and scrambles over to his unconscious form, cupping his cheek with her hand and begging him to wake up. Finnick and I sprint over to them. He pushes Katniss aside so roughly that she tumbles to the ground, and he starts giving Peeta mouth to mouth in an attempt to restart his heart. As soon as Katniss regains her balance, she straightens up and reaches to take an arrow out of her sheaf.

"NO! He's helping him!" I shout, raising my hands to stop her.

Katniss watches as Finnick begins giving Peeta chest compressions and realises that he's not trying to kill him. She places the arrow back in her sheaf and drops to Peeta's level. She strokes his hair as tears fall down her face and urges him to wake up.

"Come on, Peeta!" says Finnick through gritted teeth.

I feel sick. All I can think is _please don't die. Please don't die, please don't die..._

After another round of mouth to mouth and a few more chest compressions, Peeta finally takes a breath. Katniss bursts into a fresh load of tears. Finnick gets up off Peeta and the two of us stand back to give them some space. Peeta's eyes flutter half open.

"Be careful, there's a forcefield up there," he mutters.

"You were dead! You were dead!" Katniss wails. "Your heart stopped..."

"Don't worry, it's working now," Peeta tries hard to open his eyes fully.

"Do you want to stand up?"

He nods. "Yeah."

She carefully helps him to his feet, and then wraps him into a tight embrace.

"Peeta..." she weeps onto his shoulder.

"It's okay, I'm fine," he soothes, hugging her back.

No one says a word. I realise that I'm crying too. I wipe my tears away and Finnick invites me into his arms. He kisses the top of my head, holding me close to him, and I begin to calm down straight away, reassured by the strong beat of his heart. I hate myself for thinking it, but what if that had been Finnick? What if he had been the one in front, blown backwards by the forcefield? Would I have been able to resuscitate him? Would he be dead right now? I shiver at the morbid thought.

I wish we could offer Peeta some water, but there doesn't seem to be any around. We make the decision to keep walking, but at a slower pace, and in a different direction, since it's clear that onwards is not an option. We walk with the forcefield on our left. Finnick asks Katniss how she knew there was a forcefield, and she says she could hear it with the ear that the Capitol reconstructed after her last Games, so she walks in front, throwing nuts into the forcefield every few steps to make sure we're not going off on a tangent.

It's late afternoon now. My body is overcome with not only heat and exhaustion, but hunger. I wish I'd eaten more at breakfast, even though I ate until I was completely full.

Then I notice something. The nuts that Katniss is throwing at the forcefield – I recognise them. Mags told Finnick and I all about them, about how the victor of the 16th Hunger Games won thanks to these nuts, which were pretty much the only food source in the arena. They match her description perfectly. I ask for Finnick's opinion and he agrees with me. So the four of us snack on nuts as we walk. They don't taste particularly nice but they make us feel more alert if nothing else.

After a while, we reach a sturdy tree that seems to rise high above the others that surround it.

"Hang on," says Katniss.

She begins to climb the tree skilfully. Peeta, Finnick and I watch her until she climbs so high that we can't see her anymore past the immense greenery of the jungle.

"How are you feeling?" Finnick asks Peeta.

"Tired," he replies. "Hey, listen... thanks... for what you did."

Finnick shakes his head. "Don't mention it."

Then he tucks a stray curl of hair behind my ear.

"What about you, my love? How are you feeling?"

"I'm tired too," I nod. "I don't want to hinder anyone, but do you think maybe we could stop for the day?"

It would be different if it was just Finnick and I, exploring the arena together. But it's not. We've got Katniss and Peeta to think about too, and I don't want to seem useless.

"Of course we can," smiles Finnick.

Katniss descends back down the tree trunk and jumps to the ground.

"The forcefield – it's a dome," she explains. "I couldn't find any sign of fresh water."

It's hard to hide the looks of disappointment on our faces.

"It's going to get dark soon," says Finnick. "We'll be safe with our backs protected. We should set up camp, take turns sleeping. I can take the first watch."

Katniss suppresses a laugh and shakes her head.

"Not a chance."

I can sense Finnick's frustration before he even says anything.

"Honey..." he starts off in a sarcastic tone. "That thing I did back there for Peeta? That was called saving his life. If I wanted to kill either of you I would have done it by now."

Katniss doesn't reply. Finnick leads us to a suitable area where we can sleep – a small clearing free of any trees or plants. We arrive just as the sun sets.

Finnick and I quickly weave two mats each out of long blades of grass, big enough for a human to lie down on. Peeta takes his gratefully and falls asleep easily. Katniss says thanks but sits on hers rather than lies on it. Clearly she doesn't trust Finnick to take the first watch alone. I curl up on mine, my limbs weak, my eyelids heavy.

"Goodnight, my angel," Finnick whispers, giving me a gentle kiss on the lips.

"Night, Finn," I whisper back.

Finnick sits up on his mat, his back against a tree trunk, and strokes my hair while I fall asleep. I yawn.

"Love... you..."

"I love you too, Annie. I love you too."


	12. The Parachute

**AN: Thank you so much for the reviews! Your feedback is much loved and appreciated. Sorry this chapter is so short.**

_Chapter Twelve – Finnick_

I sit with by back resting against a tree trunk, repeatedly stroking Annie's hair as she sleeps, gripping my trident with my other hand. Occasionally she flinches and starts making whimpering noises, as though she's crying in her dream, but a few whispered words from me seem to settle her.

Peeta's sleeping too, his body still recovering from the electric shock that the forcefield gave him. Katniss stays awake with me, determined to share the first watch so I don't stab her or Peeta while they sleep. It's kind of insulting, but even though the light of day has long since disappeared, it's still too hot to argue, so I let the matter go.

"How's Peeta?" I ask after a while, keeping my voice low so I don't disturb him or Annie.

"He's okay, I think," says Katniss. Her bow is loaded and ready to send an arrow flying at a moment's notice. "Just... dehydrated like the rest of us."

A few minutes pass. Then the anthem of Panem blares out across the arena, and the images of the fallen tributes appear in the sky. Seeder is one of them. And the male morphling. And Cecelia. I imagine her three kids, back home in District 8, who are probably distraught and heartbroken, knowing that their mummy will never come home. I picture her husband, doing his best to comfort the hysterical kids while he tries his absolute hardest not to let his grief show.

"Eight," says Katniss, after the display vanishes and the anthem stops.

I mumble in agreement.

Eight killed in the first day. A relatively low number compared to usual Games, where half the tributes or more can be wiped out in the initial bloodbath. But I suppose these aren't ordinary Games. We've all done this before. We all know how it works. We're all killers.

There is a faint tinkling sound from above, which gradually gets louder and louder. I tighten my hold on my trident, preparing to strike.

"Look!"

Katniss gets up and hurries over to a grey box-like case attached to a small white parachute, that has just floated down from the sky and landed in the foliage nearby. A sponsor.

I make my way over to see what has been sent. _Please let it be water._ Katniss retrieves the case, opens it, and reads the message printed on the small card: "Drink up." She takes a small, silver instrument out of the case and inspects it. It's a hollow cylinder, which has a sort of tongue at one end, drooping down to form a curve.

"What is it?" I ask.

"I think it's a spile."

"A what?"

I've never seen or heard of such a thing before.

Saying nothing, Katniss scavenges the ground for a rock that is large but still small enough to be held in one hand. Intrigued, I watch her as she uses the rock as a hammer, and pushes the spile into the nearest tree. She drops the rock and crouches down on the ground, looking up expectantly at the spile wedged into the tree trunk. I don't really know what she's waiting for, and I'm about to ask, when a thin stream of clear water comes pouring out of the spile's curved tongue. Katniss gasps and leans forward to let the water into her mouth.

"You're kidding me..." I grin.

This is better than water. Water would run out sooner or later, but with this, we can drink as much as we want at any time of the day.

Katniss drinks her fill and then stands up, allowing me to crouch down and let the water enter my mouth. It's a bit warmer than I would have liked, but right now we can't afford to be fussy. It'll quench our thirst all the same. Once I've drank several mouthfuls, I splash some of the water on my face to wash away the sweat. The sensation is magical.

We wake Annie and Peeta, who gladly take long, well-needed drinks. The four of us take it in turns crouching at the spile, wetting our mouths and letting the water shower over our sticky faces, until we're all satisfied and Katniss tugs the spile out of the tree and hooks it to her belt. Annie and Peeta offer to take watch so that Katniss and I can rest, but we insist that we can carry on for a bit longer, so they fall back asleep without argument.

It's another couple of hours before my eyes start to feel tired and struggle to stay open. I close them, not to sleep, just to rest them, but a second later they snap open at the sound of a long, loud drone, something that sounds like a... a _chime._

There's another one. And another one. The deafening noise rouses Annie and Peeta, but realising that there is no one around who's trying to murder them, they cover their ears and drop off again. There are several more chimes, so many that I start to think perhaps they will never stop. Eventually there is silence.

"I counted twelve," says Katniss.

"Midnight?" I suggest.

"Or the number of districts."

I open my mouth to tell her that there are 13 districts, but quickly stop myself from saying anything and remind myself that Katniss doesn't know about the thirteenth one, and she isn't supposed to know, at least not yet. I wonder how Plutarch and his team are getting on with their mission. Were those twelve chimes a sign or a code? Did they even mean anything at all?

Suddenly, without any sort of warning, lightening begins to strike a particularly tall tree that's visible from our camp but a relatively far distance away, over and over again. I swear inside my head and prepare for a storm. Then I notice that the lightening is only hitting that one certain tree, despite it being surrounded by an entire jungle. It's extremely strange, but my brain is too overworked to figure out a logical explanation. I decide it's time to get my head down for the night.

"Well, if you're not going to sleep, I will," I tell Katniss.

"Okay," she says.

I give Annie a soft kiss on the forehead before getting comfortable on my grass-woven mat on the ground next to her, still clutching onto my trident. Each of my senses begin to shut down one by one as I fall deeper and deeper into a peaceful slumber. I must only have been asleep for an hour or two before I'm awoken by Katniss' screams.

"RUN! RUN, THE FOG IS POISON!"


	13. The Fog

**AN: Thank you so much for the reviews! Lots of love. Please leave one and let me know your feedback!**

_Chapter Thirteen – Annie_

"RUN! RUN, THE FOG IS POISON!"

Katniss' shrieks pull me out of my sleep, and without questioning anything, without even taking time to think, Peeta, Finnick and I are on our feet and running away from the thick, grey mist that chases us from all angles.

Finnick latches onto my arm and pulls me while we run so that I can keep up with his immense speed. I'm running so fast that my legs feel almost weightless. Katniss and Peeta are slightly behind us. I want to turn my head to make sure that they're okay, but at the speed we're going, I'd probably break my neck if I tried. So I dig deep and gather as much strength as I can muster, despite the hollow sensation of hunger in my stomach, to elude this sinister fog that's hot on our tails.

"Come on, Annie!" encourages Finnick. "We got to get out of here!"

There is a loud thud from behind, followed by high-pitched yelling. I don't have to turn round to know that Katniss has tripped.

"Katniss!" I cry, trying to slow down. But Finnick is adamant that we keep running. He tugs me along with him and I have no choice but to speed up again.

"Peeta will go back for her, I need to keep you safe!"

A few seconds later, there's another thud, heavier this time, accompanied by low-pitched groans of pain. Peeta's down. Those noises can't be from just falling over. It has to be the fog. It must be infecting their bodies, causing horrible reactions resulting in them screaming out in agony.

"Please, Finnick, we have to help them!" I shout.

Before he can say anything, the two of us stumble over a huge piece of stone blocking our way that was impossible to see in the dark. We smash face-first onto the hard earth, my knees and elbows stinging like never before. We scramble to get back on our feet, but faint wisps of the poisonous fog have caught up with us. As soon as they make contact with our flesh, we both yelp and collapse back onto the ground.

An excruciating burning sensation is spreading throughout my skin, so hot that it makes me feel like I'm about to catch fire. I look at my hands – white, pus-filled boils of all different sizes surrounded by red, inflamed skin are erupting all over them at an astonishing rate. They're on my face too, a new one forming every couple of seconds, sending fresh rockets of pain through my system over and over again. It's only when I try to stand up for the second time that I realise the fog has not just affected our bodies – it's affected our brains, too.

My legs buckle and I flop back to the ground once more. I cry out in pain as my limbs start to spasm in a seizure-like fashion. Finnick, who's sprawled out next to me, is having the same problem – his arms stiffen and jerk back and forth, and his legs kick non-existent objects while he grunts through gritted teeth. His face and hands are plagued with the white boils as well.

We reach out for each other and manage to slowly rise. Katniss and Peeta are still on the ground. If we're to turn round and help them, it means going further into the fog and becoming infected with even more poison. But I gave my word to Plutarch that I would protect Katniss with my life, and so did Finnick. So without a word, we wobble over to them as fast as we can.

Peeta is lying on the earth, making incoherent mumbling noises, his limbs shaking, his visible skin covered in the same white boils that cover Finnick and I. Katniss kneels next to him in a similar state, desperately trying to pull him to his feet. She looks at Finnick and I with a panicked expression.

"I can't carry him!" she wails.

Finnick manages to haul Peeta up, and both he and Katniss support him as they drag him forwards, out of the fog. I lead the three of them, and I try to run, but the best we can all manage is a jog. _We're never going to make it_, I admit to myself silently. _This fog is going to kill us._

I can see the grey swirls out of the corner of my eyes. I urge my legs to go faster, but it's like I'm in one of my nightmares and my body is stuck in slow mode. The swirls get closer and closer, and I have to suppress a screech as yet more boils appear on my skin. _Keep going_, I tell myself. _You have to keep going._

And then I'm falling. We're all falling. Are we dead? The four of us hit solid ground with an almighty thump. No, we're not dead – I look up and see that we ran over the edge of a small, green cliff, lined with hundreds of leaves and plants and petals. Did we do it? Did we escape the fog?

Of course we didn't. Within seconds the fog has caught up with us. It glides closer and closer, threatening to take our lives as we lie there, twitching and whimpering and helpless. I use my elbows to shift backwards a bit, in a last ditch attempt to evade the poisonous gas. But it's no use. I am no match for the Gamemakers.

The fog is almost upon us, literally only a couple of feet away. _I'm going to die_. It's not a fear anymore – it's a fact. But then something happens that makes my heart skip a beat and my eyes go wide.

The fog starts rising upwards, as though it has hit an invisible barrier preventing it from coming any closer to us. After a few moments, the grey mist vanishes completely, as if it had never existed at all. I make a strange choked noise as my eyes water. _We're safe_.

I hear someone crawling. I hear the splash of water. Then I hear screaming, but it stops quickly.

"The water... the water helps," gasps Katniss.

She's found a pond, and she's dipped her boil-covered hand into it to try and wash out the poison. She makes horrible sounds as she slips her whole body into the water, scrubbing her face and neck, but again, they stop quickly. It must really work.

Peeta crawls towards the pond and copies her, dunking his head and body under the water. Initially he moans in pain but that quickly subsides. Without any more hesitation, I make my way towards the pond, too. It's difficult, but I get there in the end. The water stings my infected skin at first but it's not long before it turns soothing. I wash my hands, face and neck, and I can feel the boils shrinking and disappearing as I scrub. The muscles in my legs and arms return back to normal, too. I can stand up properly again.

"Finnick..." I pant, desperately scanning around for him.

His mangled form lies a few metres away. New boils erupt on his skin far too quickly, and he sounds as though he's dying. _He was_, I remind myself._ We all were._

I rush over to him, Katniss and Peeta close behind me. The three of us take hold of him and drag him over to the pond. We push his head under the water and he lets out a strangled cry.

"It's okay, Finnick. It helps, I promise you," I tell him.

He instantly becomes calmer and I help bathe him in the pond, making sure the water reaches every single one of the boils. Katniss and Peeta stand back, letting me attend to him. Everything's quiet.

"We need our weapons," says Katniss quietly, collecting up Finnick's trident and the arrows that fell out of her sheaf.


	14. Mutts

**AN: Sorry that this update is later than usual. I had a really busy weekend and didn't have time to write the next chapter. But here it is! I hope you like it. Please leave a little review, I'll love you for ever! Also, a quick reminder that I'm happy to take any prompts/requests that you may have and turn them into oneshots. Just PM me if you're interested. Thank you!**

_Chapter Fourteen – Finnick_

The minutes following the fog attack are quiet between us. No one quite knows what to say. None of us have ever experienced that before, nor witnessed it during any other Games. There's no way we could have prepared ourselves for this.

Once satisfied that all the poison has been washed out of his system, Peeta climbs out of the pond and rests against a tree. Katniss re-enters the pond and wades over to where Annie and I stand in the water to hand me my trident. I take it and smile to say thanks, but instead of leaving, she decides to stay and give her skin another round of rinsing to make sure that she's completely poison-free.

"Thank you," she eventually breaks the silence. "For coming back for us."

Annie and I look at each other.

"Don't thank us," says Annie solemnly. "We should have turned around sooner. The second we heard you trip up."

"Yeah," I add. "We're really sorry."

Katniss shakes her head and smiles. The three of us continue washing in a semi-comfortable silence. As comfortable as you can get when you've got a dozen or so people hunting you down while fearing for the life of the one you love and simultaneously keeping a confidential government secret under wraps.

I look up and notice a dark, shadowy figure lurking in the trees behind Peeta. It crawls forward into the moonlight and at first I think it's a monkey. But this is too big, too brutal to be any ordinary monkey. And there's not just one of them.

The large, strong monkeys start to appear all around us. High up in the trees, around the side of trunks. Annie and Katniss catch on to what I've spotted.

"Mutts..." I whisper so as not to startle the fierce-looking creatures.

We stand in an outwards triangle in the middle of the pond. Katniss loads her bow. Annie draws a knife from her belt. I hold my trident up, preparing to strike. I reach for Annie's hand and our fingers interlock. Her hand is trembling and grips me tightly, but I only grip back harder.

"Stay close to me, baby," I breathe.

"Peeta?" says Katniss in a low voice.

"Yeah?"

He opens his eyes and turns his attention to us. He looks confused at our stance because we were so calm before, and also panicked because it must mean there's a new threat.

"Walk over here slowly," Katniss instructs.

Before Peeta can even stand up, one of the mutts lets out an almighty roar and bears his razor-sharp, unnaturally long teeth in Peeta's face. Annie gasps and I rub her hand with my thumb. I need to keep her calm if we're going to have any chance of escaping these creatures. If she slips into an unresponsive state now while traumatising images of God knows what spin through her mind, she's as good as dead. Peeta races into the pond and pulls out his knife with the long, curved blade.

The monkey's roar seems to have triggered the rest of the mutts to start attacking. They circle us, all making deafening bellowing sounds. We're clearly outnumbered. There are only four of us and there must be at least twenty of these hideous monkeys.

"Get to the beach," says Katniss, trying her best to sound calm and collected.

But that's easier said than done. As soon as the words escape from Katniss' lips, the mutts pounce. There's a gigantic splash as several of the beasts plunge into the water. I spear the ones nearest me with my trident, and warped cries fill the air as they slump forwards, dead. Annie throws her knives into the hearts of the mutts that surround her, then pulls them out so she can kill more of them. Katniss releases arrows from her bow in every direction, hitting a mutt almost every time. Peeta slashes his blade over the throat of a particularly ferocious one, but it's not enough. The monkey pushes Peeta backwards into the water and opens his mouth to start tearing strips out of him, but he manages to get back on his feet and stab it in the back.

We've done well - we're down to about seven living mutts. There's now a clear route for us to hurry to the beach. We make a run for it, but we don't get very far before a very angry and very powerful monkey jumps on Katniss from behind and pushes her right under the water. Annie lunges forward to help but I restrain her. She struggles but she's not strong enough to break free from my hold.

Peeta immediately raises his knife and stabs the mutt in the back, just like he did to the one who attacked him. The monkey's lifeless body floats on the surface of the water. He drags Katniss back up. She splutters and chokes but doesn't stop to rest. We all run as fast as our legs can possibly carry us to the sandy beach that's just a matter of metres away downhill. But the remaining mutts follow.

We leap over bulky rocks that litter the ground and duck under fallen logs that form bridges. I can hear the mutts gnashing their jaws behind us. They'll stop at nothing. These animals – if they can even be called that – have been designed to kill. Manufactured by the Capitol, specifically to slaughter any tributes that cross their path.

The steep decline in the land makes someone – I can't see who since I'm in front – lose their footing, and as a result, the four of us tumble to the ground.

"Annie..." I grunt, before I've even registered what's happened. I can't let these mutts take her from me, and I'll die before they do.

I reach out for my trident that fell beside me and shoot back up onto my feet. Annie is on her hands and knees behind me. She has a large gash at the side of her eye and crimson blood pours down one side of her face.

"Annie!" I exclaim, hurling towards her.

With my help she stands up easily, but now is not the time to ask her how she hurt herself. All I can think about is getting her away from these mutts, somewhere safe.

The mutts have caught up with us. Peeta recovers from the shock of the fall and sits up against a wall of vines to see that a monkey is barely inches from his face. You can tell from his expression that he thinks this is the end. The mutt opens his mouth as far as it will go, but before it can lunge for Peeta's throat, a short, small human figure covered in mud from head to toe sprints out from between the vines and throws herself at the mutt, who gladly sinks its teeth into her neck. She collapses, but there's no canon.

Annie screams. My eyes go wide. Katniss' breathing becomes ragged.

"Who is that?!" she shouts.

"The morphling, help me get her!" cries Peeta.

Katniss and Peeta scoop up the female morphling's skinny frame, and they, along with Annie and I, restart our desperate dash to the beach. Again, we're followed. The mutts clearly want to finish the job they started.

The jungle gets brighter as the trees grow further and further apart and the early morning sunlight becomes visible. Then the stretch of golden sand comes into view. As soon as we reach the edge of the jungle, the mutts stop roaring. And then they begin to retreat, back into the foliage as though nothing had ever happened. My brow furrows in puzzlement, not understanding why the mutts have all of a sudden stopped attacking. But in actuality, I don't care. They're gone. And I'll never take Annie back into the jungle again.

Katniss and Peeta quickly take the morphling into the large pool of salt water where the Games started. I'm not entirely sure why. I guess they think the water will lighten the pain from the wound the mutt left on her throat. Make her death as peaceful as possible.

I sigh and turn to Annie, who's watching the three of them in the water and crying.

"Let me see your face, my love."

She positions her face so that I can see her wound, but she doesn't take her watery eyes off Peeta, Katniss and the morphling. I place my hand under her chin.

"What happened to it?"

"I... I scraped it against a sharp edge of a rock when I fell," she says quietly. Her bottom lip is quivering and her body is shaking.

I pull out a large, green leaf from a nearby plant and use it to wipe the blood off her skin. I expect a fresh flow of blood to replace it but luckily only a few drops escape from the cut beside her eye. And least I know she won't bleed to death.

A canon blast rocks the arena, making Annie gasp and shudder. The morphling is dead.

"Oh, Finnick..." she bursts into a new load of tears.

I embrace her and hold her trembling, fragile body in my arms as she cries on my shoulder.

"Everything's going to be alright, sweetheart, I promise you," I tell her, looking up as the hovercraft arrives over the water and the vast metal claw dips down to retrieve the morphling's body. Annie only responds with cries. "You're doing so well, and I'm so proud of you. I'm going to get you out of here, Annie, if it's the last thing I do."


	15. More Allies

**AN: Another big thank you for the reviews! I know I sound like a broken record but there are only so many ways you can say thanks, and I don't want you to think that your reviews go unnoticed or unappreciated. I'm really glad I persevered with this story, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it.**

_Chapter Fifteen – Annie_

Finnick spends the early morning spear-fishing with his trident in the salt water pool, while Katniss, Peeta and I roam the beach collecting oysters. The four of us feast on oysters and raw fish for breakfast. It's not as tasty as cooked fish, but if we were to cook it, we'd have to light a fire which would basically send a smoke signal to the other tributes telling them where tofind us. Besides, it's the first decent meal we've had in 24 hours, and raw food is better than no food at all. Peeta finds a small pearl in one of his oysters that is almost perfectly rounded. He presents it to Katniss as a gift, and for the first time since Finnick and I were goofing around in our makeshift den, I smile naturally. A high-pitched scream interrupts our peaceful meal.

"That's new," says Peeta.

We all stand up. I feel Finnick wrap his arm protectively around my shoulder. We look over across the pool to the jungle on the opposite side of the arena, where the sound came from. The trees that are within a certain segment of the jungle start to sway. A loud rumbling noise is heard, before a humongous wave of water rises up into the sky and soaks the swaying trees. My breathing quickens and I stumble backwards slightly, but Finnick catches me before I fall and holds me close to him. The wave is so big and so powerful that even the strongest of swimmers wouldn't survive it. What strikes me as odd, is that only one sector of the jungle is affected. The entire pool ripples from the force of it, of course, but the wave disappears as quickly as it appeared in the first place. A thundering canon blast rocks the arena, and I quickly bring my hands up to my ears. I've heard that sound far too often. The wave has killed someone.

The hovercraft that collects the bodies of the dead tributes flies over to the area of jungle where the wave hit. Its great metal claw descends into the trees and pulls up a woman, I'm guessing, since the scream definitely came from a female. But from this distance it's impossible to tell who it is. Finnick gently peels my hands away from my ears and kisses the top of my head. We watch the hovercraft as it drifts away with the woman's body.

"Someone's here," Katniss informs us, automatically pulling an arrow out of her sheaf and loading her bow.

A little way down the beach, stands two figures who are completely drenched in dark red liquid. It's on their faces, in their hair, and it completely covers their jumpsuits. I'd like to pretend that the liquid is some sort of dye, and that they done this to themselves deliberately to camouflage themselves, but I know they didn't. I can tell it's blood.

The two figures seem to be beckoning someone out of the jungle, but failing. Peeta, Katniss, Finnick and I move slowly and discreetly towards them so we can get a better look and try and figure out who they are. Eventually, one of the figures holds out their hand and pulls a third blood-covered tribute out of the trees and onto the beach. I can see who they are now – Johanna and Beetee, and the person they were trying to encourage to come out of the foliage is Wiress.

Finnick and I look at each other. He nods and places his arm around my waist.

"Come on," he says to me.

We start jogging down the sand.

"Johanna!" Finnick calls.

Johanna, Wiress and Beetee all turn to face us.

"Finnick!" Johanna exclaims.

Finnick releases his hold of me and hugs a smiling Johanna. Afterwards, Finnick replaces his arm around my waist and Johanna looks at me.

"Hi, Annie," she says quietly.

"Hi," I give her a small smile back.

I'm not as close to Johanna as Finnick is. I don't have anything against her, but I guess our relationship hasn't quite reached the stage where we can hug comfortably yet. I hear footsteps behind me, and see that Katniss and Peeta have caught up with us.

"Well, I got them out," says Johanna, indicating to Wiress and Beetee. Beetee removes his glasses to wipe the blood out of his eyes. Wiress scurries around like she's looking for something, while muttering, "Tick tock... tick tock..." repeatedly.

"We were all the way deep into the jungle where I thought it was going to be safe..."

"Tick tock... tick tock..."

"That's when the rain started. I thought it was water – it turned out to be blood!"

"Tick tock... tick tock..."

"Hot, thick blood. It was coming down, it was choking us. We were stumbling around gagging on it blind!"

"Tick tock... tick tock..."

"That's when Blight hit the forcefield. He wasn't much but he was from home," Johanna concludes.

"Tick tock... tick tock..."

"What's wrong with her?" asks Katniss, looking worriedly at Wiress.

"She's in shock. Dehydration isn't helping," explains Beetee, who's now crouching down and washing his blood-stained face in the salt pool. "Do you have fresh water?"

"We can get some," replies Katniss. "We were given a spile as a sponsor."

Wiress continues to "tick tock" while attempting to get Johanna's attention. She clearly wants to tell her something, but Johanna's having none of it. She pushes Wiress away and snipes at her to stop.

"Hey!" Katniss yells, approaching Johanna. "Lay off her!"

Johanna doesn't like being challenged. Within seconds, she and Katniss have grabbed each other by the collar. Before the fight can escalate, Peeta quickly holds Katniss back and Finnick rushes to restrain Johanna. Beetee and I comfort Wiress, who's now sitting on the sand and wringing her hands out with glassy eyes.

"What are you doing?!" Johanna screams at Katniss. Despite Finnick's strength, he's finding it difficult to stop her from attacking anyone. "I got them out for _you_!"

"Get... OFF!" Finnick grunts through gritted teeth, using all his might to shove Johanna in the opposite direction. She reluctantly walks away from the fight.

"For me? What does that mean?" Katniss asks Peeta, panting from the adrenaline still rushing around her system.

"Well, you did want them as allies," he says simply.

Everyone takes a few minutes to calm down. Peeta uses the spile to retrieve some fresh water from a nearby tree, and the seven of us take it in turns to quench our thirst. Katniss takes Wiress into the pool and begins washing the blood out of her hair the best she can with just the salt water. Johanna and Beetee follow, cleansing their stained skin, while Peeta, Finnick and I sit on the beach.

Beetee is the first to exit the water. He grabs a black reel that holds an extremely long piece of wire, and starts rewinding it, since it must have become loose during his ordeal with the blood rain.

"What's that?" I ask him, looking at the reel curiously.

"This, Annie, is my secret weapon," he smiles at me. "100 metres of the finest copper wire in Panem. Perfect for electrocuting your opponents."

"That's how you won your last Games, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Beetee nods.

"That was very smart."

"Thank you," he smiles. "I hear you're an extremely talented swimmer."

I blush. "I'm alright, but no better than anyone else in District 4."

"Annie, my love, what have I told you about playing down your strengths?" says Finnick, smiling at me as he tucks stray curls of my hair behind my ear.

I blush even more.

"You're stronger than you think, Annie," says Beetee.

"Thanks," I reply, giving him another smile.

Johanna soon wades out of the pool with a clean jumpsuit and skin and joins us on the sand. We watch Katniss and Wiress in the water. They're holding each other's hands and grinning from ear to ear. Katniss is talking excitedly, and Wiress looks overjoyed that someone has finally understood her.

"What is it?" Peeta calls out to them.

"Over here! Come onto the island!" Katniss shouts back, gesturing to the Cornucopia behind her.

We look at each other in confusion but do as we're asked. We walk in single file along the closest rocky spoke, holding our arms out to help keep our balance. Katniss and Wiress have already reached the island that holds the Cornucopia in the middle of the pool.

"What is it?" Peeta repeats.

We scan the surrounding jungle.

"This entire arena seems to be laid out like a clock, with a new threat every hour," Katniss begins. "But they stay only within their wedge. It all starts with the lightening. Then the blood rain, fog, monkeys... that's the first four hours. At ten, that big wave hits from over there."

She points to the sector of the arena where the gigantic wave drenched the trees earlier on.

"Wiress, you're a genius," says Finnick.

Wiress smiles at this compliment. Then she slowly lowers herself down and sits on the edge of the island. She hugs her knees and starts mumbling the words to an old nursery rhyme about a mouse who ran up a clock called 'Hickery Dickery Dock'. She seems content, so we don't bother her.

"Look, the tail points at twelve," Peeta notices.

"That's where the lightening strikes at noon and midnight," Katniss confirms.

"Strikes where?" asks Beetee.

"That big tree."

Katniss points to a tree in the twelve o'clock wedge that rises high above the others.

"Good," Beetee says quietly, giving a little nod. You can almost see the cogs churning inside his head as he generates a plan.

Peeta pulls out his knife and uses the point to draw a circular map of the arena on the dusty surface of the island. He splits it into twelve sectors.

"So, twelve to one is lightening..."

He draws a lightening bolt with his knife point in the appropriate wedge.

"Then one to two is blood..."

He draws a few large droplets in the wedge to the right of the last one.

"Then fog..."

He draws a cloud.

"Then monkeys..."

He draws a pretty impressive sketch of the face of a mutt.

"And then ten to eleven, the wave," Katniss reminds him.

He adds a drawing of a wave in the ten o'clock segment.

"What else? Did you guys see anything?"

"Nothing but blood," Johanna shakes her head.

"It doesn't matter," says Peeta. "As long as we steer clear of whichever sector's active, we'll be safe."

"Yeah, relatively speaking," mutters Finnick.

Some of the others scowl at him.

"Don't look at him like that," I say loudly and clearly. "He's right. This is all very well but the Careers are still out there, in case you've forgotten."

Something isn't right. Wiress has stopped singing. I hear a gasp, and we all turn our attention to her. Gloss has her in a headlock, and he's just pierced a knife through her chest.


	16. The Spinning Island

**AN: Very sorry for the extremely late update! I've been really busy with work recently so finding the time to write this has been a nightmare. But I haven't given up! Here's the next chapter, please leave a review and tell me what you think.**

_Chapter Sixteen – Finnick_

The impact of Wiress' canon causes the ground beneath our feet to vibrate. Annie lets out a cry and I'm immediately there, wrapping my arms around her, whispering to her, shielding her body with my own in case Gloss tries to attack her. But he doesn't get the chance.

Katniss sends an arrow flying and it hits him right in the lung. Annie gasps and buries her head in my chest at the second canon. Gloss collapses backwards and his body plunges into the salt water.

My heart skips a beat when I notice Cashmere running along a spoke towards Katniss. She doesn't see her, but luckily, Johanna does. She pushes Katniss sideways, raises her axe above her head and hacks at Cashmere's ankles. With a shriek of pain, Cashmere loses her balance and stumbles backwards, slamming her head off the rocky surface of the island. Annie starts whimpering at the third canon in under half a minute.

Out of nowhere, the Careers from District 2, Brutus and Enobaria, appear on the island. I know that this cannot and will not end well. I usher a traumatised Annie over to Beetee, who gladly takes her and pulls her into the safety of the Cornucopia, protecting her somewhat from the violence. Then I jump back over the rocks to aid Peeta against Brutus. My trident smashes against his spear. He tries to puncture my stomach, but I'm too fast, too agile, too clever. Brutus may be strong and sturdy but he's also quite slow. His movements are repetitive and within seconds I have his technique memorised.

Realising that he's fighting a losing battle, Brutus eventually gives up and hurries after Enobaria around the side of the Cornucopia. An arrow speeds across my shoulder, but instead of hitting either of the Careers, it lodges itself in the metal of the Cornucopia. Katniss sprints past Peeta and I and disappears behind the corner of gargantuan horn.

"Katniss!" Peeta shouts.

He tries to run after her, but before he's even set off, I'm holding him back, preventing him from going any further. Peeta can't fight from a distance like Katniss can. He can't release arrows from metres away and kill with a single shot. It would be a waste to leave him at the mercy of the Careers.

A deafening, droning sound fills the air. At first I think Katniss has been killed, and this is her canon, but the sound lasts much longer than a canon blast. Then the island shakes, and suddenly, it starts spinning, and everyone is thrown off their feet.

There are several screams and we all tumble a small way, before gripping onto the rocks for dear life. This is not a gentle spin, but a speedy, ferocious, terrifying spin, erasing everyone's sense of direction. Cashmere's dead body falls into the water, and I imagine it being instantly crushed and battered against the strength of the waves.

I struggle to get a better hold on the rocks and look around for Annie.

"Annie!" I roar over the din of the spinning island and the splashing water. "Annie, where are you?!"

"Finnick!" I hear her cry.

I look to my right and see her clinging on to the island's surface a few feet below me.

"Hold on, Annie!" I bellow. "Hold on for me, okay?"

I watch as she tightens her grip on the rock. I wish I could be beside her, holding onto her small body and protecting her from falling in the water, but if either of us tried to move right now, it could be fatal. So instead I shout encouragement in the desperate hope that the island will stop spinning very soon.

"Just keep looking at me, Annie! That's it! I'm here, okay?"

Annie grits her teeth and hauls herself back up higher. I can tell her weak bones are getting tired from supporting her weight. _Please, my love, just hold on a little longer. Please, I beg you..._

I duck my head and dodge my body this way and that as the remaining weapons from the Cornucopia begin to rain down on us. Blades, maces, axes and spears bounce off the spinning island and into the water. Once the shower is over, I turn my attention back to Annie, who thankfully seems unharmed by the raining weapons.

The spinning begins to slow down, and I feel the knot in my stomach loosening. _It's stopping_, I think to myself with a relieved expression on my face. _It's finally stopping..._

The island becomes stationary again, and as soon as my head stops feeling fuzzy, I make my way over to Annie and help her up. Everyone seems to be here, except...

"Katniss fell in!" yells Peeta.

A little way off, Katniss tries to push herself up onto a spoke out of the water.

"Come on, sweetheart," I pant, encircling my arm around Annie.

We, along with Peeta, Johanna and Beetee, rush out onto the spoke where Katniss lies on her front, coughing and spluttering.

"You okay?" pants Peeta.

Katniss simply gives the thumbs-up sign, since she probably can't speak due to all the water in her lungs. Peeta helps her to stand up and rubs her upper back.

"Let's just get what we need and get off the bloody island," sighs Johanna.

The others start moving around us, but I take Annie's face in my hands and rest my forehead against hers.

"I thought you were..." I breathe. "I thought I had..."

Annie shushes me and I exhale heavily.

"Don't say that. I'm fine. You're fine. We're both fine," she gives a small smile and then kisses me.

"I love you, Annie," I bite my lip as tears fall from my eyes.

"I love you too, Finn," she rubs my tears away gently with her thumbs. "This isn't over yet. I'm not going to leave you."


	17. Jabberjays

**AN: So this is the jabberjay scene! I've had quite a few comments about how I'm going to write this chapter. Please note that it's a bit different to the book/film. I know this isn't what jabberjays do exactly but I had to adjust some details so that Finnick and Annie are the stars of the story and not Katniss and Peeta. Thanks for the reviews, please keep them coming! Lots of love.**

_Chapter Seventeen – Annie_

Everyone gathers on the beach in a circle. Finnick stands behind me and wraps his arms around my tummy. He kisses my hair and then rests his chin on my head.

"So besides Brutus and Enobaria, who's left?" says Katniss.

"Maybe Chaff," Peeta suggests. "Just those three."

"They know they're outnumbered. I doubt they'll attack again," says Finnick. We're safe here on the beach."

"So what do we do? We hunt them down?" asks Johanna.

Before anyone can answer Johanna's question, there's a horrid high-pitched scream that comes from inside the jungle. I automatically think that the fog or the mutts have claimed their next victim. It must be Enobaria, since it's definitely a woman's scream. But then it dawns on me. This scream is too gentle, too weak to have come from Enobaria's mouth. And I think I know its owner. I can't quite put my finger on it, but the sound stirs something in my mind. _I recognise that..._

"ANNIE! FINNICK! PLEASE, HELP ME!"

My eyes widen.

"MAGS!"

I break free of Finnick's hold before he's clicked on to what's happening and make a beeline for the trees. Mags isn't dead. Mags isn't dead! She's here, they've got her, they're hurting her... where is she? I have to find her! _I have to find her!_

I hear Finnick, Beetee, Katniss, Johanna and Peeta simultaneously shout my name, but I don't listen, I don't care. Mags is here, she's alive, and I need to bring her home with us.

"Mags! Mags!" I cry as I flee through jungle towards Mags' screams, skipping over tree roots and ducking under branches.

Tears alter my vision as I reach a small clearing. I turn my head in all directions, desperate for any sign of Mags or her attackers. But there's nothing.

"ANNIE, THEY'VE GOT ME! PLEASE, ANNIE! PLEASE STOP THEM! HELP ME, ANNIE, HELP ME!"

"MAGS!" I cry again as I sink to my knees.

I bring my hands up to my head as I continue to scan the surroundings for my beloved friend, but I'm becoming increasingly panicked and anxious the longer I look. What are they doing to her? What are they doing to our sweet, lovely Mags, and why can't I find her?"

"ANNIE! HELP ME, PLEASE! MAKE THEM STOP, ANNIE, MAKE THEM STOP!"

The sky. Mags' screams are coming from the sky. I wipe my face with my hands and peer up at the treetops, where a single black bird that's about the size of a seagull circles the air around me. Surely, it can't be...

"ANNIE! ANNIE!"

It is. The bird is a jabberjay. Mags isn't here. Mags is dead, like she was all along. I start crying all over again, still kneeling on the ground. For a moment there, for a tiny moment, I thought we could be a family again. Finnick, Mags and I, together again, fighting the world. But she's gone. She's gone and it's just a stupid bird imitating her. My heart sinks. I feel like I've lost her all over again.

"PLEASE, ANNIE, DON'T LET ME DIE!"

I hear heavy footsteps and there's a loud rustle as a panting Katniss appears from the foliage in the clearing.

"Annie! Are you okay?"

She walks over to me and offers me her hand. I take it and she helps me get back on my feet.

"M-Mags..."

"Come on, I'll take you back to Finnick. Everything's going to be okay, I promise."

Katniss tries to pull me back towards the beach even though I mumble "no" and look back up towards the circling bird that continues to scream my name in Mags' voice.

"It's okay, Annie, come on, come with me..."

She probably thinks I'm having an episode. _Why do I have to get stuck with the mad girl from District 4_, that's what she's thinking. _She gets hysterical over a bird and now I'm the one who has to take care of her..._

Katniss offers me extra encouragement but she's interrupted by more screams. Different ones. These belong to a man. I don't know him, but it's clear that Katniss does, because the colour drains from her face in an instant. Her eyes water and her bottom lip begins to tremble.

"KATNISS! KATNISS, PLEASE! HELP ME, SWEETHEART, HELP ME!"

"Dad..." she breathes. "DAD!"

I remember Peeta telling me that Katniss' dad passed in a mine explosion a few years ago, the year of my first Games. Katniss sprints off after the jabberjay, in a heartbreaking search for her deceased father that will never end.

"Katniss!" I shout as I run after her. "It's not your dad, it's just a jabberjay! I thought it was my friend Mags, but it's not! They're just birds!"

Katniss stops and turns her tear-stained face towards me. I eventually manage to catch up with her.

"KATNISS! NO, PLEASE! STOP! HELP ME, KATNISS, PLEASE!"

"Just birds?" she repeats slowly and unsurely.

I nod.

"I think we're in the active sector of jungle. This must be the hour's threat. Let's go, we've got to get out of here!"

We both start running as fast as we can back the way we came, but find ourselves surrounded by an army of jabberjays. Not just one or two, but hundreds, all screaming in Mags' and Katniss' father's voices. We swat them away as we try our best to escape, but their cries root themselves inside my head, especially those in Mags' voice pleading for my help and asking me not to let her die. All the background noise from the jungle is flushed out by the birds' shrieks. They're all I hear, all I think about, all I focus on.

Up ahead, we spot Peeta, Finnick, Beetee and Johanna, all with their hands out in front of them, as though they're resting them on some sort of invisible window. Finnick says something to me and I generate a fresh round of tears because I can't hear him over the jabberjays. All I want is Finnick. I need Finnick. I'm so close. I'm almost there...

The invisible window is real. My body slams against it. There are no jabberjays on the other side. This must be the sector boundary, trapping Katniss and I in here with these demented creatures until a whole 60 minutes are up.

I scream and it is only just audible over the birds. I match my hands against Finnick's on my side of the invisible barrier and look at him as tears fall from my eyes. His face is plagued with worry but he's trying hard to look calm and in control. He continues to speak to me but it's no use because I can't hear him. I shake my head to let him know that the barrier is sound-proof, but he carries on talking anyway.

"ANNIE! ANNIE! ANNIE!"

I clutch my hands over my ears and scream again. Make them go away! Please, let them go away!

"ANNIE, THEY'RE GOING TO KILL ME! STOP THEM, ANNIE!"

I screw my eyes shut and collapse onto my side. I curl up into the smallest ball I can manage and begin rocking back and forth. _If they won't go away, then I will..._

The jabberjays' screams become fainter and fainter. My body starts to feel unusually light, until soon I feel weightless. My eyelids become heavy and my brain becomes jumbled. Traumatising images of my first Games and the Quell begin to play inside my head, but right now, watching them is better than being tormented by Mags' screams. Anything's better than being tormented by Mags' screams...

I don't know how long I'm out for before I feel Finnick gently shaking my arm.

"Annie..." comes his muffled voice.

My eyes slowly open.

"Annie, baby, wake up..."

For a moment I don't know where I am, or what's happened. But then it hits me.

"Mags!"

I bolt upright and grab onto Finnick's arms, my eyes wide with fear, my body shaking. Finnick shushes me and strokes my hair.

"It's not Mags, sweetheart. It was jabberjays. Mags isn't here. She's watching over us," he says quietly with a warm smile.

I start hyperventilating as I search the sky for the birds.

"They're gone now, my love. The hour's up. You're with me now."

Finnick pulls me into his chest and hugs me tightly.

"K-Katniss..."

"She's okay. She's with Peeta. Don't you worry about a thing, Annie, everything's going to be alright."

I close my eyes and spend a minute trying to get my breathing back on track while Finnick holds me in his protective arms. I never want to be separated from him again. I never want another invisible barrier to come between us. I want to stay here, safe, at least for now, in the place where I feel most secure.

"I'm sorry..." I whisper. "I know Mags is dead but I thought... I thought..."

"I know, honey, I know. You don't have to apologise. But you need to promise me that you'll never run away like that ever again, okay?"

"I promise," I sniff. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Finnick kisses my head.

"Don't worry about that now," he says. "I'm just glad you're alright."


	18. Beetee's Plan

**AN: Here's the next chapter! Sorry again for the delayed update. I loved it when I updated daily but I just don't have the time anymore since I started my new job. But from now on I'm making a pact to save more time for writing because it's my favourite thing in the world. Thanks for your prompt, Siren In The Sea! I'll get to work on that and hopefully it will be published within the next couple of days. Lots of love to everyone who has reviewed!**

_Chapter Eighteen – Finnick_

We make our way back to the beach. Nobody talks. The only noise is the jungle ground beneath our feet and the sloshing of the waves. I hold Annie's body that's still trembling as we walk together, and she rests her head on my shoulder.

The silence is not comfortable. But it's not awkward either. It's the kind of silence you experience at a funeral, where everyone shares the same pain and respects each other's desire to grieve. No words are spoken because there are no words that can fix things. So instead, everyone joins each other in mutual silence because it seems like the most appropriate measure to take.

When we arrive on the sand, I pull Annie off to one side without mentioning anything to the others. Thankfully, no one follows us. I wouldn't be angry if they did, but Annie and I need some time alone after her ordeal with the jabberjays.

We step out into the salty water, and sit down where it's still shallow, so that our legs are immersed but the rest of our bodies are exposed. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. The sea air that fills my lungs and the feeling of the warm water against my jumpsuit and the fact that Annie is sitting beside me reminds me of home. I might have been completely transported back there in my head if it wasn't for the sweltering heat and the exotic clicking and buzzing and chirping coming from beyond the treeline. I'm hoping that Annie will feel the same. I hope that the water and the air will at least bring her some comfort.

I turn towards her. Her bun that was so secure yesterday morning has now fallen half-out. There are dark scars on both of her cheeks. I pounded my fists against that invisible barrier and screamed her name until my throat was coarse as I watched her fingernails claw at her face while she lay there, curled up in a ball, dreaming of frightful stuff. Her eyes have lost their sparkle. She looks drained, worn out, over-tired and scared. But I've never loved her more than I do right now.

"Mags would think I was stupid," she says in a small voice.

"No," I say immediately, grasping her hand in both of mine. "Mags would think you were – what was it she used to call you? 'My beautiful brave girl'?"

Annie nods.

"Mags would think you were her beautiful brave girl who wanted to do everything you could to protect her. And she loves you. Even though she's not here anymore... she still loves you."

Annie sniffs as she starts to well up and tears escape from her eyes. I wrap my arm around her and she cries against my chest.

"I feel like I'm letting everybody down. None of that would have happened if I had just stayed put! Katniss wouldn't have followed me and she wouldn't have had to hear her dead dad crying out for help!"

"Katniss followed you because she cares about you," I tell her. "She was off before I'd even figured out what was going on. And by that time, the others had me pinned to a tree so I couldn't go in after you. Katniss is your friend, Annie. So's Peeta. And Beetee. And I know Johanna isn't the most sensitive person in the world, but she does want the best for you, too. You just don't see it."

Annie's crying slows and her breathing steadies again. I kiss the top of her head and she slides out of my embrace to look at me.

"I thought... never mind."

She shakes her head and looks down at the water.

"Thought what, sweetie?"

She looks up at me again.

"I thought that they saw me as the Mad Girl, like everyone else. That they were wary of me because they... they thought I was strange."

I cup her cheek. I shake my head and smile gently at her.

"Absolutely not. I promise you, Annie, they don't think like that. And if they did, I wouldn't give them the time of day."

She smiles and I can see that some of the sparkle re-enters her eyes straight away.

"You're not mad, my love, you're not," I insist.

We share a hug before Johanna calls us over to re-join the rest of the group. We stand up, link hands, and Annie pulls her bun out completely so that her beautiful red hair swishes down to her waist. We jog across the sand and I get the feeling that Johanna, Peeta, Katniss and Beetee are about to have some sort of meeting.

"Where would the Careers be safest? The jungle?" says Beetee.

"Jungle's a nightmare," Johanna states.

"Probably here on the beach," says Peeta.

"Then why are they not here?"

"Because we are. We claimed it," Johanna says strongly.

"And if we left, they would come?"

"Or stay hidden in the treeline," I point out.

"Which in just over four hours will be soaked with water from the ten o'clock wave," says Beetee. "And what happens at midnight?"

"Lightening strikes that tree," Katniss tells him.

"Here's what I propose – we leave the beach at dusk. We head to the lightening tree," he points to the unusually tall tree that stands above the rest. "That should draw them back to the beach. Prior to midnight, we then run this wire from the tree to the water."

He holds up his coil of wire for us to see.

"Anyone in the water, or on the damp sand, will be electrocuted," he finishes off.

Peeta picks up a handful of the sand and softly crushes it with his fist, as though he's processing what would happen if someone was unlucky enough to be standing on it at midnight.

"How do we know the wire's not going to burn up?" Johanna asks in her cynical way.

"Because I invented it," Beetee tells her. "I assure you, it won't burn up."

Annie and I look at each other. Neither of us really know anything about electricity or how it works. I guess no one outside District 3 does. But I trust Beetee, and if he says this will work, I'd say it's worth a shot. A few moments pass before Johanna speaks.

"Well... it's better than hunting them down."

"Yeah, why not? If it fails, no harm done anyway, right?" says Katniss.

Peeta nods.

"Alright, I say we try it," he agrees.

"So what can we do to help?" I ask.

"Keep me alive for the next six hours?" Beetee suggests. "That would be extremely helpful."

So it's decided. We're going to use the power from the lightening strike at midnight to try and electrocute the Careers and anyone else who's out there. Only one thought races through my mind – _where is this hovercraft? _Although we've only been in the arena for little under 48 hours, it feels like it's been a lot longer since we were flown from the Training Centre, and the tributes are dying at an alarming rate this year. I'm starting to wonder if Plutarch and his team will make it on time, or if they'll even be able to penetrate the outer walls of the arena at all. The idea that the mission might be unsuccessful makes me feel sick. There might only be one victor after all, meaning that Annie and I will be torn from one another just like we thought we would.

I stand in the water at a knee-high level and twist my trident above my head as the sun begins to set, practising my jabs and perfecting my grip. Annie takes her rubber shoes off, removes her socks and starts walking along the shore barefoot, letting the water wash over her skin. I open my mouth to tell her to put her shoes back on, that she doesn't know what could be in that water and we might have to make a run for it any second, but I can't bring myself to do it. It's clear that the water is comforting her, and who am I to detain her from what little reassurance she can find? Johanna draws patterns in the sand with her axe, and Beetee has uncoiled his wire and is now carefully winding it back up. Katniss and Peeta sit a little way along the beach, sharing a romantic moment.

The sun has almost disappeared now. Beetee finishes re-coiling the wire. It's time. I lower my trident, and Annie puts her socks and shoes back on. Johanna looks over to where Katniss and Peeta are kissing.

"Alright, lovebirds!" she calls.


	19. Captured

**AN: Hello! I've received a couple of requests to write another chapter for my oneshot 'Not Dead Yet', and I'd be more than happy to do so! Only, right now I'm not really sure what to write about. If you have any suggestions, please let me know either via review or PM. So while I'm waiting for inspiration, I thought I'd write the second last chapter of 'In Panem We Trust'! Hope you like it, please leave a review!**

_Chapter Nineteen – Annie_

It's dark now. The six of us make our way uphill through the jungle towards the lightening tree with only the moonlight to guide us. Finnick and I walk hand in hand, taking careful steps so we don't accidentally slip or trip on anything.

The anthem of Panem echoes around the arena. We look up at the night sky and see a slideshow of the tributes who have fallen in the last day. Wiress' image is shown. Beetee lifts his glasses and smiles a smile full of pride and admiration. You can tell he had a lot of respect for Wiress. I don't think many people did, which is definitely a shame. She was the one who figured out that the arena was a clock, after all. Without her, we might still be wandering around into the hands of death without even knowing it. One thing's for sure, she will be loved and remembered with great fondness.

When the anthem comes to an end and the images of the tributes disappear, we carry on deeper into the jungle. Eventually we reach the lightening tree that is abnormally thick and stands tall above the others.

"Minimal charring," says Beetee, examining it. "It's an impressive conductor. Let's get started."

Beetee spends a good thirty or forty minutes wrapping the wire around the trunk of the tree, while Johanna, Katniss, Peeta, Finnick and I stand in an outward circle around him, watching out for Brutus and Enobaria.

"Typically a lightening strike contains five billion joules of energy," Beetee explains. "We don't want to be anywhere in the vicinity when this hits."

He stops, stands up, and holds out the remaining wire to Katniss. He looks at Johanna and I.

"You three girls go to the beach now. Take this. Unspool it carefully. Make sure the entire coil is in the water, you understand? Then head to the two o'clock sector, we'll meet you there."

"I'm going to go with them as a guard," says Peeta, stepping forward.

"No, no, no," replies Beetee. "You're staying here to protect me."

"No, I need to go with Katniss," Peeta insists.

"There are two Careers out there, so I need two guards," Beetee says firmly.

"I'm not letting Annie go where I can't see her," says Finnick, walking over and putting his arm around me. "Sorry, Beetee."

"Finnick, it's okay," I smile at him. "I'll be fine, trust me."

There's a moment of tense silence.

"You all agreed to keep me alive until midnight, correct?" Beetee looks around at us one by one.

"It's his plan, we all agreed to it," says Johanna, noticing the doubt on Finnick and Peeta's faces.

Finnick holds my face in his hands.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to," he says quietly, shaking his head. "Don't let anyone make you think that you have to go. No one said anything about us being separated."

I gulp. The truth is, I am scared, and I don't want to leave Finnick. But I gave my word to Beetee that I'd help him with his plan, and my promises come before my fears.

"No, I... I'll be fine," I repeat. "I'll be fine."

Although I'm not sure I will.

Finnick plants a soft kiss on my lips and we hug each other tightly.

"I love you," Finnick whispers.

"I love you too," I whisper back.

"I'll see you really soon," Finnick musters a confident voice.

I just nod and offer my best smile in the hope that it will be convincing enough.

Katniss and Peeta say their goodbyes before Johanna says, "Alright. Let's go."

She, Katniss and I begin walking back downhill towards the beach, Katniss carrying the coil of remaining wire. I don't want to look back at Finnick in case I get upset and decide to pull out, but I can feel his eyes boring into the back of my head. I know he'll be watching me until I'm completely out of sight.

We trudge through the darkness without talking. We reach a particularly rocky patch of ground, where there are boulders and stones beneath our feet instead of the moist jungle floor.

"Come on, I want to put as much distance between me and this beach as possible," says Johanna. "Frying is not how I want to go."

Katniss comes to a halt. The wire has got stuck amongst the rocks. She tugs it gently, trying to pull it free.

"There's something..."

The wire snaps and springs back towards us. Katniss immediately drops the coil and loads her bow with an arrow, and I see Brutus emerging from behind a large boulder, Enobaria close in tow. They've been following us.

Before Katniss can release the arrow, Johanna picks up a rock in one hand and smacks Katniss over the head with it, causing her to collapse.

"Johanna!" I cry, kneeling down to help Katniss.

"No, go!" Johanna shouts whilst tugging my arm. "Annie, run! Go! Go and find Finnick, you'll be safe with him! Hurry!"

Every part of me is telling me to stay and tend to Katniss, but I know that Johanna must have done what she did for a reason, even if I don't understand that reason yet. So I do as she says.

I abandon the scene and flee, back through the jungle at a slight angle so I'm not in the direct firing line of the Careers. No blades or spears are thrown at me, so I can only assume I've successfully got away.

I run as fast as I can up the steep incline towards the lightening tree. I lose my breath quickly but I won't stop. I can't. I have to get back to Finnick. I think of Katniss, who's probably unconscious, slumped on the hard stone, and Johanna fighting off Brutus and Enobaria by herself. I owe it to them to reach Finnick. But I don't even know if I'm going in the right direction. I don't have a compass, and the fact that I escaped diagonally threw me off course a little. I don't have time to stop and collect myself, though, so I just keep going.

I hear the boom of a canon and the entire arena shakes.

"FINNICK!" I scream, stopping dead in my tracks.

It can't be him. _No, please... don't let it be him_. I look around for any sign of movement, but I see only the black outline of the trees. I take a deep breath and start jogging, hoping and praying that Finnick hasn't been killed, that the canon didn't signify his death, that he's alive and well and okay.

"ANNIE!"

Finnick's voice. I burst into tears at the sound of it. He's not dead. He's not dead!

"Finnick! Finnick, where are you?"

I speed up as I race through the jungle, determined to reach the lightening tree and find Finnick.

"Annie! Annie, can you hear me?" comes his faceless voice.

"I can hear you but I can't see you!" I call back.

"Stay there! I'm coming to find you!"

I stop running and put my hands on my knees, puffing and panting while scanning my surroundings, but it's useless. It's too dark, too dense to make anything out.

A clap of thunder makes me jump and turns my attention to the sky. A portion of clouds a little way off in front of me have turned bright blue and are swirling in a sinister fashion. Midnight. Did Johanna make it down to the beach? Is the coil in the water? Is Finnick anywhere near that tree?

I bite my lip and start walking backwards. I don't think I'm close enough to be harmed by the lightening, but this isn't normal lightening. I sense that the first bolt is about to strike, but just as it does, an arrow attached to a long length of Beetee's wire is released into the air and pierces the forcefield that forms a dome around the arena.

The manufactured sky flashes pink, yellow, orange. A deafening buzzing noise attacks my ears and the ground rumbles. The impact of the blow makes my entire body shudder and I scream as I'm thrown violently backwards. I fall unconscious before I hit the jungle floor.

XxXxX

My eyes slowly flutter open and are met with a harsh white light. I know instantly that I'm not in the arena. There's an oxygen mask over my nose and mouth, and I'm hooked up to a heart monitor which beeps in a regular rhythm. I'm lying on something cold, something hard. Metal. I'm lying on a metal table. I feel a constant swaying motion beneath me and the low hum of an engine. I'm flying. I'm in a hovercraft! Is this it? Is this Plutarch's hovercraft? _Finnick. Where is Finnick? I must find Finnick..._

I'm still drowsy, but I try as hard as I can to sit up. I wince at a slight internal pain, and notice that I can't go any further because my wrists are chained to the table. I look to my left and notice three other metal tables, identical to mine, positioned beside me, carrying three unconscious people. Peeta, Johanna and Enobaria. Their wrists are all chained, too. Why on earth are we chained? And what happened to Finnick? And Katniss? And Beetee?

A silver door to my right slides open with a whoosh and in walks not Plutarch or Haymitch, but a Peacekeeper. _A Peacekeeper?_

"What's happening?" I ask him. "Why am I chained? Where are the others?"

The Peacekeeper holds his hand up to quieten me.

"You'll find out soon enough, when we get there," he says gruffly.

"Get where? Where are we going?"

The Peacekeeper looks at me with a serious, stern face.

"The Capitol."


	20. Finding Out

**AN: Here we are, the very last chapter! Thank you SO much to everyone who has reviewed or favourited this fic or added it to their alerts. I'm really happy with the feedback I've received about 'In Panem We Trust', and I hope you enjoy this last chapter! I've received a couple more prompts and I will get started on them as soon as possible. Thank you!**

_Chapter Twenty – Finnick_

I slowly come back round into a conscious state and find myself under unnatural bright lights. This can't be the arena. I'm lying on a stretcher that's been placed on the floor, and there's an oxygen mask over my face. The slight swaying I can feel and the sound of an engine tell me that I'm on a hovercraft. The hovercraft that broke into the arena to take us to District 13? It might well be. The last thing I can remember is blacking out after the impact of the lightening strike at midnight threw me off my feet while I was searching for Annie.

Annie. Where is Annie? I look around and see that Katniss and Beetee are also lying on stretchers on the ground, still unconscious, with oxygen masks on their faces, too. Where are the others? Peeta? Johanna? My love?

I notice a drip being fed into my bloodstream via a needle in the back of my hand. I'm so drugged up that I barely flinch when I pull the needle out. I take my oxygen mask off and stand up, a little unsteady, partially due to the swaying motion and partially due to being knocked unconscious in the arena, but I don't let it hinder me. _I must find Annie_.

I hear faint chatter coming from the other side of a silver door. It slides open as I approach it clumsily. The chatter stops and Plutarch and Haymitch turn to look at me. _So the mission was successful_. No one says anything for a couple of seconds.

"Finnick," Haymitch smiles. "How are you feeling?"

"Where's Annie?" I ask.

"Why don't you come and sit down?" Plutarch pulls out a chair for me. "You must be very tired."

"I don't want to sit down," I tell him. "I want to know where Annie is."

Haymitch sighs. He and Plutarch look at each other. Haymitch's mouth makes awkward shapes as though he's trying to think of something to say but can't find the right words.

"We... we tried to get everybody out. But we were too slow."

My chest tightens.

"You mean... she's still in the arena?"

Tears sting my eyes at the thought of my dear, sweet Annie stuck all alone without me in that death trap.

"No. She's not in the arena," says Plutarch. He sighs like Haymitch. "They got her."

"They got her? What do you mean 'they got her'?"

"The Capitol," says Haymitch. "They realised what we were planning to do and sent in a hovercraft of their own. They picked up Annie, along with Peeta and Johanna before we were able to."

It takes a while for Haymitch's words to sink in. I shake my head in disbelief. But then it hits me. Annie, my beautiful, wonderful Annie, has been kidnapped by the Capitol. She'll be thousands of miles away from me by now. _Will I ever see her again?_

A strangled choking sound escapes my throat as I start hyperventilating. My eyes widen and I clutch my chest with my hand. Haymitch and Plutarch guide me over to a chair and sit me down, muttering reassuring words, but I don't hear, I don't care. All I can think of is Annie screaming out in pain while she's being tortured, or being forced to take up the work that I do for the Capitol and endure being groped and fondled by strangers night after night. The mental image makes me grit my teeth in anger and I stand up with such force that the chair slides backwards across the room.

"Finnick..." Haymitch places his hand on my arm. I immediately shake it off and burst into a hysterical fit of tears.

"DON'T!" I cry. "DON'T TRY AND MAKE THIS ALL OKAY, BECAUSE YOU CAN'T! NOTHING WILL BE OKAY UNTIL I HAVE MY ANNIE BACK!"

"Calm down, Finnick," says Plutarch quietly.

"NO! NO, WHY SHOULD I?! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! YOU SHOULD HAVE GOT HER OUT INSTEAD OF ME! YOU SHOULD HAVE SAVED HER INSTEAD OF ME!"

My sobs overcome my ability to speak and I sink to the ground. My hands tug at my hair and I rock back and forth as I cry and cry for Annie.

Why? Why did this have to happen to my angel? Why couldn't it have been me? I'd die for Annie in an instant, and right now I'd give anything for the opportunity. What are they doing to her? She must be terrified. Is she crying for me, too? For years I've been the only one capable of making Annie feel safe. Of comforting her when she slips into her flashbacks or wakes up screaming from a nightmare. But now I have no way of reaching her, of holding her, of kissing her head and telling her everything's going to be okay. Of telling her I love her.

I love her. I love her so, so much, and I might never get to say that to her again. Why didn't I tell her more often? Why, why, _why_? Oh God, I hope she's okay. She has to be okay. I don't know what I'll do if she's not. I can't bear to contemplate it. She can't be dead. It's just not an option. I need her.

"We have to go..." I look up at Haymitch and Plutarch with bloodshot eyes. "We have to go to the Capitol and get her. And Peeta, and Johanna. Please, we have to go..."

Plutarch shakes his head.

"It's too dangerous at the moment, Finnick. We _will _bring them home, I assure you, but not now. We can't now."

This sets me off into a fresh load of cries. I start hitting the side of my head against the floor while I wail Annie's name. I hear Plutarch and Haymitch rushing around the room. There's a pop as a plastic lid is taken off something. Then Haymitch plunges a syringe into my arm through my jumpsuit, and I let the sedative take me to a place where Annie and I are safe and happy and free.


End file.
